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Kirkbymoorside v Tadcaster Magnets, Saturday 2nd May 2026, 2pm

May 4, 2026

One of my aims for this year is to complete the Yorkshire Wolds Way. That doesn’t sound too ambitious, given that the trail is only seventy-nine miles long, but it took us twelve years to do the Cleveland Way, albeit in both directions.

With the plan in mind, Jen and I spent a couple of nights just outside of Market Weighton and ticked off fourteen miles between there and South Cave. We’d have done more if we hadn’t taken the dog with us, due to his age, knee op and tendency to stop and smell everything.

There wasn’t much in the way of wildlife. The odd hare and a couple of birds of prey that I’m not knowledgeable enough to identify. The highlight was probably a white pheasant. I’d assumed that these birds were rare, but on reading up about them it turns out that that they are bred to act as ‘markers’ for the birds during the hunting season.

I had hoped to have been at Wrexham to watch the Boro in their final game of the regular season. I didn’t have enough priority points for a ticket though and so was limited to following our push for promotion on my phone. Our slim prospect of automatic were over early on once Ipswich had gone two goals up in their game. That left me free to focus on the match that I had been able to get into at the New Earswick Sports ground, just outside of York.

I was there to watch the York City and District Saturday Senior Cup Final, a fixture contested by Kirkbymoorside and Tadcaster Magnets, both of the eleventh-tier York League Premier Division. Tadcaster had already clinched the league title, so were going for the double. Kirkbymoorside were in fifth place in the table and so potentially capable of providing decent opposition.

It was free to get in and, if I’d chosen to, I could have watched a cricket or rugby game on the nearby pitches instead. There were around eighty other people there and I think I might well have been the only one who wasn’t a friend or family member of the players. League Champions Tadcaster were a class above. They went ahead in the opening minutes and then added a second just before half-time when their left-back rifled one home from about thirty yards.

Tadcaster were content to sit back after the break and going into the final ten minutes there were still just the two goals in it. The Kirkbymoorside keeper then booted a Magnets striker for trying to block his clearance and was given a red. The Casper-like outfield replacement for the goalie seemed to be trying to avoid being hit by the ball at the resulting penalty. Tadcaster then made it four when Casper got his fingers to a shot that was going wide and deflected it into his own net.

The winners were presented with both their League and Cup trophies at the end and celebrated with the obligatory jumping up and down whilst spraying ‘bubbly’ over each other. Hopefully I’ll watch the Boro doing the same in three week’s time at Wembley.

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Bergnasets v Boden, Saturday 14th February 2026, 6.10pm

March 13, 2026

For the past few months, I’ve been visiting Lulea for work. It’s up in Swedish Lapland and an interesting place to spend some time. Jen thought that it might be a good location to see the Northern Lights and so she tagged along for this trip.

We spent the first day walking along an ice trail that runs across the sea from the town centre harbour to a small island and beyond. A track had been polished that allowed people to skate or use some sort of snow walker. I think my skating days are done, but I was happy to give Jen a push on the walker thing.

We made it to the island and back in temperatures that varied between -26C and -29C. It’s fair to say that I didn’t really notice the difference between the two. Both were colder than my previous experiences in Atyrau and Moscow, where it didn’t ever dip below -25C. What I did notice though was my nostril hair freezing and ice forming around the stubble on my chin.

When we got back to the apartment, I discovered frostbite on my thighs, despite having worn two layers on my legs. As I write this a month later, it is still very visible, although it hasn’t yet turned black, which suggests that I probably won’t need my legs lopping off.

You’d think that temperatures like that would mean no football, but that’s not the case. It’s pre-season in Sweden and they get around the issue of frostbite by playing the games indoors. That meant that Jen and I could pop along to the Arcushallen whatever, stadium, complex, aircraft hanger?

We called into some Swedish burger chain for something to eat beforehand, where the highlight was seeing a couple of old blokes, presumably celebrating Valentines Day, eating ketchup mixed with a few sachets of salt whilst waiting for their order to arrive.

The pre-season friendly was between Bergnasets and Boden. It was a fixture that I’d seen for real the previous summer. There was probably a similar crowd of eighty or so on both occasions, but when it’s approaching thirty degrees below zero, there’s not many places you can leave the house for.

The game got off to a lively start with Boden going a goal up in the opening minute. They doubled their lead in added time at the end of the first half. I think both sides were drawing on some ringers and Boden had a bloke up front listed as Thor the Lion. I hope that really is his name.

The second half was both scrappy and closer, with each side scoring for an eventual 3-1 away win.

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Hercules B v Atletico Saguntino, Sunday 11th January 2026, 11.30am

January 16, 2026

As it hasn’t really warmed up much Jen and I decided to have a week in Spain. The easiest option was an evening flight to Alicante from Teesside on a Friday night. The only downside was that it didn’t land until after ten and I thought it a bit late to collect a hire car and head off somewhere quieter.

Alicante itself is pretty good out of season though, warm enough for strolling about in a tee shirt and with far fewer visitors than would be around later in the year.

I was working during the week, but at the weekend we fitted a couple of walks in. The first one took us along the coast to Albufereta via a disused railway line and through some tunnels. The second one went back from the coast and up to the Sant Ferran castle. It gave us views down to the sea and also of the other castle, Santa Barbara. The second walk also incorporated a game at the Antonio Valls stadium.

The fixture was in the fifth tier between the B team of Hercules and visitors Atletico Saguntino. The hosts were mid-table with Saguntino second from top.

The area of town where the game was taking place was full of grounds. The main Hercules stadium was just across the road and there was an athletics field next door. An under-fourteen’s match was taking place nearby. There was also some other kind of indoor sports venue where the spectators were making a lot of noise. It might have been a swim meet. Perhaps with sharks or piranhas.

Jen and I arrived about five minutes before kick-off and found a spot in the main stand that was temporarily in the shade.

As well as our stand, there was another uncovered stand opposite, just slightly smaller. A few people were watching from a railing to the right where volleyball and basketball games were in progress. There was a small café with a handful of people congregated outside and a some benches that were popular, particularly the ones in the shade. I’d estimate the total crowd at about four hundred.

A fella with an impressive combover was directly in front of us. I reckon that he only had about an inch of hair remaining, but he had somehow managed to hide all evidence of hair loss. Fair play to him.

There weren’t many chances in the first half and whilst Saguntino were on top, it was goalless as the teams went off. I bought a couple of tiny empanadas from the café. They seemed to have nothing more than ketchup inside. I doubt they will catch on.

We switched to the smaller stand for the second half to try and take advantage of the shade. I’ve a feeling we nicked the spot of someone behind us in the queue for the ketchup pasties.

The visitors took the lead just after the hour when a corner led to a goalmouth scramble and an eventual poking home at the back post. Hercules applied pressure, but deep into added time they lost the ball and were hit on the break. Sagutino’s second goal confirmed the victory and after allowing the post-goal argy-bargy between the players to peter out, the ref brought matters to a conclusion without bothering to kick-off again.

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Derby County v Middlesbrough, Thursday 1st January 2026, 3pm

January 2, 2026

Well, that’s another year done. 2025 started slowly for me as I was in Saudi Arabia for most of the first couple of months, but once I returned to the UK at the end of February, I was able to start seeing a bit more football. I went to ninety matches in 2025, spread over eleven countries and seventy-four stadiums of which sixty-three were new grounds for me. I got to see the Boro play on twenty-five occasions.

I think my football year highlight was seeing the Boro rattle in four first half goals at Hull. I actually laughed out loud when the fourth went in. A visit to Millmoor for a Doncaster Belles game some forty years on from my last time there watching Bruce Rioch’s Boro was an enjoyable trip down memory lane. It was good to get around some of the lower-tier Swedish grounds in the summer and watching the Saudi Clasico in the King Abdullah Sports City Stadium was a perfect way to bring my Saudi time to an end. Ticking off the San Siro might just be worth a mention too.

It was a good year for gigs. I managed to get to forty, despite it all tailing off in the last two to three months of the year. I only saw Sea Power three times in 2025, but two of them were at Krankenhaus which really is a joy to attend. John Bramwell topped the frequency list with five shows. I now know his between song patter better than he does. I also saw Boo Hewerdine three times with his best gig coming as his Hotel Art guise in Glasgow. Honorable mentions for The Molotovs, Mike Monroe, Sparks, David Cronenberg’s Wife and Edwyn Collins. Seeing Darts forty-seven years on from the last time I saw them was an interesting experience, but I think I’ve lost the taste for doo-wop revivalists. No Weller or Bragg gigs for the first year in a while.

Jen and I got out for a walk in 2025 more frequently than we’d managed in the previous couple of years, finally finishing the Cleveland Way thirteen years after starting it and then making a solid start to the Yorkshire Wolds Way. We managed twenty-three hikes in total which isn’t too bad, but I’d like to step it up in 2026.

And so to 2026 and a New Years Day fixture against Derby. It’s eighteen years since I last bothered going to Pride Park but I’m enjoying the Boro’s season and so I thought I might as well nip down there. I’m also trying to rack up enough priority points to have a chance of going to Wrexham in the final game of the season, so every match helps.

It’s an easy two-and-a-half-hour drive south and I was able to park roadside about twenty minutes in the right direction for a swift post-match getaway. The Boro end had sold out, and the stadium looked full. It was good to see hardly any seats lost to segregation with just a double line of hi-viz stewards separating the fans.

Pride Park has the same main stand with a horseshoe design as the Riverside, although Derby went ahead and filled in the corners during the initial construction phase. I think their use of one of those corners for boxes and a scoreboard is an improvement on the Riverside set up. They’ve also put rail seating behind one goal and in the away section.

One of the downsides of a sold-out section is that you can’t move if you don’t like the people around you. I was surrounded by a combination of old blokes planning their next day out at a Tommy Robinson march and some of the most negative dickheads around.

They were adamant that all of our players were fucking bellends. Our tactics were shite and our recruitment was shite. All of this absolute shiteness had to be constantly pointed out just in case there was any doubt in the minds of anyone within earshot. Life in its entirety was shite. It was difficult to see what pleasure any of them hoped to obtain by attending. Or by existing. What made it bearable was that the most negative dickhead had a high pitched squeaky voice. It was as if he was alternating his sniffs of coke with inhaling from a helium balloon.

The match followed the recent pattern of us dominating, missing an early chance or two that would likely have led to a win, before conceding and then failing to break down ten men sat deep. All we need is for one of those chances to go in. The defeat dropped us down to third with Ipswich moving past us. Maybe a new striker or two in January will take us back to winning ways.

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Brigg Town v Doncaster City, Saturday 6th December 2025, 3pm

December 21, 2025

One of the reasons that I’d decided to head down to Humberside for the Hull game was that it would allow Jen and I to walk a little more of the Yorkshire Wolds Way. It took us thirteen years to complete the Cleveland Way and I’d quite like to finish this one whilst I’m still in my sixties.

We walked on both the Saturday and the Sunday, completing a section between Welton and South Cave in both directions. With the walks in and out to the trail it was getting on for seventeen miles in total. There wasn’t much in the way of wildlife, so the highlight was feeding a robin with ginger nuts.

The Boro playing on the Friday night gave me the opportunity to take in a post-walk match on the Saturday afternoon. I drove South across the Humber Bridge to Brigg for a tenth-tier fixture between Brigg Town and Doncaster City in Division One of the Northern Counties East league.

Before paying my six quid admission I got talking to a bloke in the car park. He had a few interesting stories of his football travels and he also told me that Brigg Town are the seventh oldest English club and that their Hawthorns ground dates back to 1959. It had been refurbished this year to provide a new clubhouse and a 4G pitch.

I spent my change from a tenner on a programme and raffle tickets, then queued for pie, chips and gravy. There was a long covered stand along one side and a smaller covered stand on the new clubhouse side. The facilities looked really good for tier ten, certainly when compared to the equivalent Second Division Northern League grounds.

Most people just leaned on the perimeter fence around the pitch and the dog highlight was some sort of spaniel/poodle cross in a wooly winter jacket.

There was plenty to occupy the crowd in the first half with Brigg taking the lead from a close range header some fifteen minutes into the game and just after the floodlights had been switched on. The home advantage didn’t last long as a mix up between the Brigg keeper, who was wearing goggles, and one of his defenders, allowed a Doncaster striker to steal the ball and finish easily.

Brigg soon restored their lead from a speculative ball into the box that seemed to evade everyone. The was a lot of niggle between the sides which escalated just before the break with two yellows for dissent in quick succession for one of the Doncaster coaching team. On receiving his red card he trudged off towards the dressing room but then thought better of it, doubled back and made for the bar instead.

The drama continued in the second half as Brigg gradually took control. A throw in that went deep into the box was headed towards goal. The Doncaster keeper was slow to react as it looped over him and dropped just beneath the bar. Brigg scored a fourth from the spot with around twenty minutes remaining to extend their lead to four-one. The Doncaster players weren’t happy about the decision and one of them ended up in the sin bin.

Being temporarily down to ten men didn’t seem to disadvantage Doncaster and by the time the miscreant was allowed to return, they had scored twice to bring it back to four-three. Both goals were decent, the latter being scored directly from a corner. Once back to full strength, Doncaster pushed for an equalizer. Despite a generous amount of added time they didn’t manage it though and Brigg took the points.

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Bridlington Town v Mossley AFC, Saturday 6th September 2025, 3pm

September 9, 2025

I wasn’t a cool kid. I’ve never been cool as an adult either, not even in that ‘so uncool that you actually are cool’ kind of way. As a thirteen year old and when my cool mates were listening to punk and new-wave, I was listening to The Beatles, Mott The Hoople and Darts. Yes, Darts, a doo-wop revival combo.

They were the first band that I ever saw live. Possibly because The Beatles and Mott The Hoople had already broken up. It was at Middlesbrough Town Hall in June 1978 and, as it was half-term, I even popped along to Debenham’s in Stockton for a signing session earlier in the day. The nine Darts members signed my album and singles and didn’t complain when I rejoined the queue and got them to sign a paper bag as well.

Forty-seven years and three months later, Jen and I went along to Cottingham Civic Hall where I saw Darts for a second time. They played all the songs I’d liked as a thirteen-year-old. Four of the nine who had signed my Debenham’s bag were on stage, two others were dead and three had moved on from their doo-wop revival days. It went well. I doubt I’ll see them for a third time, but it was an enjoyable evening of uncool nostalgia.

Cottingham is close to the start of the Yorkshire Wolds Way and as we were staying in the area we took the opportunity to begin yet another of the National Trails. We recently finished the Cleveland Way, a mere thirteen years after starting it, and currently have Hadrian’s Wall and the West Highland Way in progress.

We set off from Hessle and over the course of two days covered fourteen miles walking to Welton and back. The wildlife highlight was a vole that was so fat to be virtually round. I’ve no idea if they hibernate, but if they do, it looked ready.

There were plenty of options to see a game in the eleventh tier Humber Premier League, but instead I chose to drive forty minutes north to Bridlington for a First Qualifying Round tie in the FA Trophy. Bridlington Town of the eighth-tier Northern Premier East Division were taking on Mossley AFC, who play in the equivalent West Division.

The East Division is the league that most Northern League teams are allocated to if they achieve promotion, so I was interested in seeing the relative strengths of the teams. It’s no more than a rough guide though, especially since Bridlington are second in their division, whilst Mossley are towards the bottom end of theirs.

I’d read that there was plenty of parking at the ground, but a quick circuit of the car park suggested that we’d arrived too late. There were plenty of spaces in the nearby streets though and we were soon in the turnstile queue for the Mounting Systems Stadium.

It was nine quid admission and, whilst most of the 455 attendees were already inside, there were plenty of seats in the main covered stand.

In addition to a covered stand that ran the entire length of one side of the pitch, there was also a covered standing area behind one goal and a kind of bus stop structure opposite the main stand. Brid, as their supporters seem to refer to them, had a small group of ultras with a drum, whilst Mossley were supported by around forty fans at the far end.

At half-time I queued for a baked potato at the opposite end and was joined by the Mossley fans who had switched locations to stand behind the goal that their team were now attacking. That sort of flexibility is one of the things that I enjoy about football at this level.

Football-wise, Brid took the lead within the first minute of the game. I wondered if we might expect a rout, but the contest was fairly even after that. The early goal was enough though as the home side held on despite nine minutes of frantic added time efforts from visitors.

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Askam Utd v Crooklands Casuals, Saturday 23rd August 2025, 11am

September 5, 2025

The August Bank Holiday weekend is rapidly becoming associated, for me at least, with Sea Power’s Krankenhaus Festival. This will be the fifth one that they’ve held at Muncaster Castle and Jen and I have been to them all. The first one, back in 2019, had fewer than four hundred attendees and probably many of them were gatecrashers who had been alerted to the complete lack of security.

This year the capacity had reached fifteen hundred and that’s as high as I’d like it to go. Part of its charm is the lack of crowds and, whilst I appreciate the need for it to at least break even, it was very full inside the barn for the higher profile bands.

Despite the increased capacity, the festival was still a success. Hamish Hawk was very well received, as he had been last time he appeared. I can’t really understand how he isn’t bigger. There was a short performance from Stewart Lee, prior to him introducing The Nightingales. I wondered if he might struggle a bit as most of his humour relies on slow burning build ups and looping back to previous references. I needn’t have worried, as he nailed it.

The highlight though was Sea Power. It always is. For their Friday night performance, I started off a few feet from the stage, but it got too hot and after being clonked on the head by a surprisingly heavy wooden owl that was being dangled from a fishing rod, I moved to the colder air outside the barn and watched the rest of the set from there.

We stayed offsite, in a small place near Santon Bridge. It was ideal for a Sunday morning walk along a Forestry Commission path to Mitterdale. We didn’t see much in the way of wildlife other than a few sheep and I’m not sure that they count. As you’d expect, the views were great. When the path became boggy, we called it a day and turned around, but the six-mile stroll with plenty of ascent was worth doing.

Unsurprisingly, I took in a football game. I’d originally planned to head up to Whitehaven, but their 3pm kick-off would have meant missing Hamish Hawk. For an alternative I found a game that was kicking off at 11am as part of a groundhopping weekend. It was at Askham and involved an hour-long drive down some country lanes that were barely wide enough for one car, never mind two.

It was a fiver to get in and that included a programme and a team sheet, something that a lot of groundhoppers regard as essential to their experience.

Inclusion on a groundhopper tour significantly boosted the attendance. There were close to four hundred people there, mostly blokes on their own and of a similar age to me. The club had pulled out all of the stops to provide facilities and hopefully make a few bob from the day.

There was a small stall with Askam merchandise, including shirts that were presumably last season’s match kits. Further along, someone had two full tables of pin badges. He also had replicas of the Champions League, Premier League and FA Cup trophies. Selfies could be taken with the trophies at a pound a pop. An outdoor bar sold cans of beer and soft drinks but I resisted all of the spending opportunities until I reached the food stall where I spent my cash on a bacon and egg roll instead.

The Duddon Road ground doesn’t have any stands or seating, although there were a few picnic tables along one side of the pitch. There are houses along two sides of the pitch and some picturesque views of the sea behind one goal and the hills behind the touchline with the picnic tables.

It was a grass pitch and after the summer that we’ve had was mainly yellow and in need of some rain. It would have benefitted from some levelling too, with one section in particular sloping upwards towards the corner flag.

The fixture was in the twelfth-tier Division One of the West Lancashire League. According to the programme, Askam hadn’t been doing too well so far this season, but they had most of the early possession and better chances.

Crocklands took the lead against the run of play a quarter of an hour in, when a third effort was driven home after the keeper had beaten out the previous two attempts at goal.

Askam stepped up the pace in the second half but despite the pressure couldn’t force an equalizer. Most of the crowd moved on to Dalton for their second game of a three match Saturday itinerary, whilst I headed back up the road to Muncaster with sufficient time in hand for Hamish Hawk’s afternoon set.

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Middlesbrough v Deportivo de La Coruna, Saturday 2nd August 2025, 3pm

August 8, 2025

There’s just a week to go until the proper season starts for the Boro. That means it’s time for the traditional ‘big name’ friendly at home. Good as that is though, the fixture against Deportivo de La Coruna wasn’t the highlight of my weekend. Not at all.

Twelve years after logging our first section of the Cleveland Way, Jen and I finally finished it off. We walked a total of eleven miles from Filey Brigg to Cayton Bay and back, which meant that we fully completed the trail in both directions on the same hike.

It’s nice to do these walks with a dog and as Henry is still recovering from his knee surgery, we borrowed Soph’s other dog, Millie. She’s an seven-month-old Labrador and whilst Jen and I covered just the minimum distance necessary, she ran back and forward for at least twice the mileage.

The second-best weekend activity was the match. Tom had mentioned that he and his mate Jones were going in hospitality for forty-eight quid. That seemed like a good deal to me and so Harry and I joined them.

We were in the Host and Stay Lounge, which is usually close to two hundred and fifty pounds a pop, although I think for regular games you get a lot more than the burger and chips that we were given.

It made for an interesting change though. There was table service, and we had one of the booth tables that allowed us to look out towards the fan zone and see other fans arriving.

Having a big table also made it easy to spread out the fold-out poster in the programme and identify ourselves in the photograph of the Boro end at Ibrox a week earlier.

Our padded seats were just to the right of the Director’s Box. The Boro were pretty much full strength from those available, with the exception of Rav van den Berg and Hayden Hackney. The dutchman was nowhere to be seen as he tries for a move back home, but Hackney was on the bench after deciding to gamble on securing a Premier League move by turning down Championship Ipswich.

I think he has made the right call, but if his transfer doesn’t happen until late on deadline day, we might find it too late to replace him in this window.

We did ok with Tommy Conway scoring twice, the second after a good run from wing-back Sammy Silvera. In between those efforts, Deportivo scored twice themselves and the resulting draw meant that we were still awaiting our first win under Rob Edwards. Hopefully we are saving that for Swansea on Saturday.

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Hartlepool United v Middlesbrough, Wednesday 30th July 2025, 7pm

August 2, 2025

It’s not often that I get to Hartlepool, but this was my second visit within a month. The previous time Jen and I had taken a walk along the England Coastal Path. We started at St Hilda’s church, quickly passing a pub with outdoor karaoke next to the Andy Capp statue. We continued northwards as far as Steetly Pier before retracing our steps.

We paused at the cemetery that has the graves of those killed in the World War One naval shelling, with the highlight of the six-mile walk being a seagull flying past us with a mouse firmly clasped in its beak.

This visit was to watch the Boro at the Victoria Ground, or as it is now known, the Suit Direct Stadium. It’s thirty-nine years since I last saw a game there, back in ’86 for the Boro’s first game after coming out of liquidation. Ayresome Park didn’t have the safety certificate and so Hartlepool very kindly lent us their ground.

My memories of that game are sketchy. I remember turning my ankle on the wasteland going in and I’m fairly sure I watched from the terracing along one side of the pitch. Probably the side facing the tunnel. We went two up and could have clinched the win when someone, possibly Archie Stephens, maybe Gary Hamilton, rattled the crossbar from distance. Port Vale hit back though, and we had to settle for a two all draw.

There was no wasteland to negotiate this time as we parked near to the stadium and followed the road around to the entrance for the Victoria Park Lounge. I’d opted for a hospitality ticket mainly so that I could watch the match sitting down. For thirty-eight quid a pop, Jen and I got padded seats behind the dugouts, curry and rice before the game and a welcome drink. Not bad at all.

There were around two thousand Boro fans attending. We had the standing section behind the goal to our left and the seated stand to my right. There was a small group of vocal Hartlepool fans in the corner of the stand opposite, but otherwise the home crowd were fairly quiet.

Boro had picked a young, inexperienced side, so much so that there were players I’d never heard of. Fringe players Forss, Barlaser, Hamilton and Gilbert were given a run out, but none of them made a pressing case for a first team starting spot.

It was goalless at half-time when we returned to the lounge for a coffee. Hartlepool scored first after the restart, but Boro equalized through Sonny Finch running at the Hartlepool defence and finishing well. A draw was a fair reflection of the evening’s action.

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Glasgow Rangers v Middlesbrough, Saturday 26th July 2025, 2pm

July 30, 2025

The Boro’s pre-season friendly with Rangers certainly caught the attention of the Boro fanbase with around seven thousand tickets sold for the trip to Ibrox. I looked at accommodation in the city but it seemed so expensive that I initially assumed that it must have been a weekend when both Oasis and Taylor Swift were in town.

My Plan B was to stay north of Glasgow and combine the trip with walking a little further along the West Highland Way. The hotel that we booked in Drymen was having a Murder Mystery Night and so we joined in. I doubt I’d make a detective as I strongly suspected a couple who were there as punters, just like us. It’s lucky I didn’t rugby tackle them to the ground to make a citizen’s arrest. Jen identified the murderer easily enough, reasoning that ‘it’s usually the wife’.                                                                     

We only had time on the Saturday for a short pre-match walk, but we covered the section between Dumdoyne and Arlehaven in both directions. It was just six miles in total, but it’s enough to keep the progress of the trail ticking over and it’s good to spend a morning out in the countryside.

We passed a distillery that I may visit on a future trip but didn’t see much wildlife. I’d been hoping for deer but had to settle for a robin.

In the afternoon I drove to Ibrox. It’s a stadium that I’d last visited in the summer of ’85. On that occasion my friend Craig and I had travelled up to Edinburgh to see some lads that we had recently met on holiday in France. They were Hearts fans and we went with them to Glasgow to see their team get beat 3-1.

It looks as if there have been some renovations in the past forty years as the few memories that I have of the inside of the ground bear little semblance to what I could see from the lower section of the Broomloan Stand.

Tom and Harry had made the journey north too, but I missed them before the game. As they were in the upper tier I couldn’t meet up with them during the game either.

I was pleased to see Sol Brynn in goal for us. If he is going to be our first team keeper this season, he needs to establish himself as soon as possible. Possible departures Hayden Hackney and Rav van der Berg were missing, supposedly with minor injuries, or perhaps after a phone call from an agent.

The game was more physical than a lot of our players were used to and we struggled to ‘win’ free kicks by going to ground after minimal contact. I’m ok with that. Law McCabe adjusted quite quickly and seemed to relish the opportunity to get stuck in. I’m hoping that when Hackney does go, that he’ll get a decent run alongside Morris.

We went one up from a corner early on and added a second just after half-time. Rangers then made ten subs at once and with a much stronger team brought it back to two each. We were happy to take the draw by the end.

I finally caught up with Harry and Tom for a chat outside before heading back to Drymen with the intention of a further chunk of the West Highland Way the next day.

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