One team in Glasgow Partick Thistle

After many unhappy returns from Broadwood, Thistle ended the eight year wait for an away victory over Clyde. Goals from Scott Chaplain and Gary Harkins, resulting from contrasting free kicks, were sufficient insurance against Dougie Imrie’s inevitable penalty, and meant that that Kenny the Clyde matchday mascot was correct in his prediction of a 2-1 scoreline, although wrong in picking the winner.

Arthur Montford’s words “free kick situation”, are indelibly inscribed on the consciousness of all Thistle fans, being forever linked with the follow up “Bone…walks the ball into the net”, as Thistle raced to a 4-0 halftime lead over Celtic in the 1971 League Cup Final. Yet this season “free kick situations” have been getting on the nerves of this scribe, especially as the goal ratio has dipped spectacularly from the legendary era of the Bull.

When the kick is awarded in the middle of the pitch near the half way line, the only tactic has been to float the ball vaguely forward to the corner of the box. With no whip or angle on the ball to test the defence, it is easy meat for the headed clearance by the centre halves hewn from the mould of Colin Hendry that every other team in our league seems to possess. When the foul has been committed at the edge of the penalty area, two players always stand near it, the free kick taker and Gary Harkins to his side, clearly shaping to shoot. No attempt at disguise is made and it is so obvious that even today’s referee Alan Freeland would have worked out that the ball will be touched sideways and Harkins will hammer it. Therefore the defenders all charge at Harkins and either close him down or force him to hurry the shot. The net result is frustration for the fans and scattered shouts of “Try something different, Thistle”. Watch this space….

Broadwood is a misnomer. The name conjures up an image of the mighty Caledonian forest, majestic trees marching to the skyline, combining grandeur and spaciousness. Those who have watched the Lord of the Rings films could perhaps picture Treebeard, the giant Ent (or shepherd of the trees) existing happily in such an environment. The reality is always so depressing, as you abandon your vehicle at the other end of the road to nowhere to avoid the car parking charge and trudge through the bleak landscape of the Dead Marshes towards the lonely stadium, accompanied by low flat roofed buildings whose architect seems to have been inspired only by the shape of Dougie Imrie’s head. When you take your seat, there is no tree in sight, just the odd straggly bush on the slope exposed by the absence of a stand at the faraway end of the stadium.

At least the adverts on the hoardings for Optical Express and the Dental Clinic promised a game full of vision and bite, and the groundstaff symbolically untaped both goalmouths to clear the way for an avalanche of goals.

Thistle kept the same eleven that started in last week’s encouraging performance against Dundee and kept to the 3-5-2 formation, with Simon Storey combining simplicity and skill in the sweeper role, tidying up and recycling all that came his way. Greg Cameron showed budding signs of promise in his shortlived appearance in the Dundee game, and he blossomed against Clyde, keeping the play moving through the midfield and putting in some strong ballwinning tackles when required. David Rowson maintained the level of excellence in every part of the pitch which has been his hallmark all season, and his recent welcome signing of a long term deal has in no way diminished his appetite or industry.

There was no shortage of hard work up front from Keegan and Buchanan, and Keegan in particular came in for a lot of heavy punishment from the Clyde defence, most of this being unnoticed and unpunished by the referee. However, there was an absence of penetration in attack, and the nearest Thistle came to scoring in the early stages was when a Clyde defender headed the ball narrowly over his own bar. Harkins was trundling up from the deep to take all the corners but, although his delivery was reasonable, there was no end product.

Rowson delayed at the edge of the box when a direct shot looked the best option, and Robertson was crowded out at the back post after a neat turn and cross by Chaplain. Nevertheless Clyde engineered the first genuine threat, almost a carbon copy of Russia’s recent winner against England. Masterton shot low and hard from distance. Craig Hinchcliffe (a la Paul Robinson) did well to get down to push the ball way, but instead of sending it sideways, it was laid on a plate in front of the goal. Fortunately David McGowan did not possess the Russian striker’s skill to dink the ball over the keeper, and he scuffed his shot wide. To be fair on Hinchcliffe, his handling was immaculate thereafter, and he held many firmly struck freekicks, shots and crosses which other keepers might have spilled. His opposite number David Hutton did drop quite a few balls, especially when under pressure, and was lucky that Thistle did not capitalise on the opportunities this presented.

While Dougie Imrie on the Clyde left was being kept fairly quiet in the first half (he came on to much more of a game in the second half), his counterpart on the right, Michael McGowan (who in contrast faded in the second half and was replaced), was causing real concern to the Thistle defence with some smart and pacey footwork. In the 27th minute he worked his way right through the rearguard and came running from an angle towards the goal, while everybody in red and yellow stood and watched him. Maybe this subtle defensive tactic put him off, and a challenge might have made up his mind for him. Racked with indecision between a shot and a cross, his confidence melted, and he ended up putting the ball feebly into the side netting.

Apart from a strong shot from Greg Cameron which flew well over the bar, Thistle were generally afflicted by their current malaise of “ungreediness” (if such a word exists), where no one will take on the responsibility of shooting, but will instead try and find a better placed colleague. The best example of this was late in the first half when Cameron burst through the Clyde defence, moving at speed towards the corner of the six yard box. A natural striker may have homed in on goal, but instead, perhaps in unfamiliar territory, he looked to cross and could not pick anyone out.

Rowson’s covering and neat pass and move football going forward were among the few positive features of a scrappy first half, but ironically it was his mistimed shot into the box which nearly turned into the perfect throughball for Buchanan. The main highlights were provided by the nearside linesman. Possibly the calls of “Who ate all the pies?” and “Don’t turn round - you’ll frighten the weans” meant that he wanted to get as far away as possible from the Thistle fans, and he spent most of the game actually standing on the pitch, like a forlorn winger eager for a pass to bring him into the action.

Clyde began the second half purposefully and Hinchcliffe was pleased to be standing in line to gather a Masterton freekick. Cameron was perhaps slightly lucky not to be booked after yet another meaty challenge.

Then Thistle were awarded a free kick at the Clyde end of the centre circle. Harkins stepped forward and lofted the ball to the left corner of the penalty box. I turned to my companions to complain “Yet another floaty freekick”, and had to end the sentence rather lamely “which ends up in a goal”, as Mark Twaddle shook himself from his general listlessness to leap like the proverbial salmon and direct the perfect headed cross which hovered invitingly over the six yard line. Scott Chaplain showed all the predatory instincts of a Yakubu or a Rooney, timing his run beautifully and cushioning a volley neatly into the corner of the net.

Chaplain may not be the world’s greatest player, but his honesty, application and enthusiasm are beyond question (as were his delight in scoring and his appreciation of what this meant to the Thistle fans). Therefore his mistimed tackle on Marvyn Wilson can probably be attributed to over-exuberance rather than malice. A yellow card was a fair result, but Wilson was fortunate that his endeavour to strangle Chaplain (the attempted murder of a clergyman is a serious offence!) was missed by Mr Freeland and his pie-filled accomplice.

Not surprisingly Clyde were stung into action by both Chaplain’s goal and tackle, but the Thistle rearguard, well marshalled by Storey, and with Alan Archibald showing up to better effect than in some previous games, were fairly comfortable, until David McGowan somehow wriggled through the defensive shield. Both sets of players seemed to stop, appealing for different offences, and therefore the crowd were uncertain as to whether the game was still live. McGowan’s shot hit the base of the post and rebounded to safety, and as the game flowed on, Thistle fans realised how lucky they had been and Clyde fans rued their misfortune.

Although the two McGowans had come closest to scoring, they were hauled off and replaced by Arbuckle and Bradley. Ian McCall withdrew Keegan (battered and bruised, but unbowed) and sent on Mark Roberts in a vain attempt to rediscover his scoring magic. Rowson had a strange run down the left touchline full of uncharacteristic bad touches, but which almost resulted in a goal.

You will have guessed the script by now. After 74 minutes, Liam Buchanan for once escaped the defence and was scythed down around the edge of the box. The pieman seemed to signal for a penalty, but Mr Freeland took the easy option and gave a freekick at the edge of the box. Rowson and Harkins went for the usual routine. As Harkins was enveloped by the onrushing defenders, I was bemoaning the telegraphing of our intentions. However, in the split second before he was engulfed, Harkins let fly a drive which arrowed into the nearside corner of the net, sparking celebrations all round.

It would be unThistlelike to run down the clock and play out a comfortable victory, and so it proved. Thistle withdrew into their own penalty box, battened down the hatches and endeavoured to repel the Clyde invaders, led by Imrie, who displayed the energy and determination which have caused him to be the subject of some transfer speculation. It was rather like France v Scotland in Paris as John Robertson and others put in brave blocking challenges to keep the goal intact. Stevie Murray was brought on for the tiring Buchanan to try and hold on to the ball further upfield.

Finally, with two minutes of normal time remaining, the dam broke as a high ball eluded John Robertson. Imrie got in behind him and was brought down. It was too far away to see properly, but the penalty award was probably fair enough. For the third game in a row, Hinchcliffe was confronted with a penalty, and this time he could do nothing to stop Imrie despatching the ball efficiently.

McStay replaced Cameron, but did not touch the ball so far as I can recall. Time stood still in the 90th minute as the ball sat up invitingly at the junction of the Thistle box and Imrie whacked it. It would have been a spectacular equaliser and no doubt much enjoyed by the mostly subdued Clyde support. Fortunately, perhaps fired by surplus adrenaline, the ball flew over the bar and crashed into the empty seats behind the goal.

The final scoring chance was at the Clyde end, to the great relief of a by now frazzled Thistle support. Roberts was clear in the box, but could not decide whether to try to end his scoring drought or to waste time. Rowson and Murray were equally uncertain, and the attack ended with Murray being flattened by the Clyde keeper.

There was no time for any further significant action. Mr Freeland blew his whistle and walked off, leaving Murray still lying semi-conscious in the Clyde goalmouth. Several minutes later he was sufficiently recovered to hobble off the pitch and the Thistle fans were able to celebrate to the full. This was a well-earned victory, propelling Thistle away from the rather crowded lower end of the table, and sinking Clyde to the bottom.

Thankfully the dreary landscape was now shrouded in darkness, though one did wonder what incentives the builders would need to tempt people into buying the new houses which will soon be giving the isolated stadium some much-needed company.

Man of the match: David Rowson