One team in Glasgow Partick Thistle

A Partick Thistle team minus several regular starters failed to win the quadruple over Livingston. Trailing at half time to a deflected strike from Liam Fox, the Jags briefly raised the tempo in the second half, but all to no avail. A grand total of two reasonable attempts at goal in the whole match tells its own story, and Thistle could have no complaints about the final result. The only legitimate complainers were the fans who paid full prices to watch, and Morton and Clyde who saw the Lions preserve their First Division status without being forced to fight for their lives.

In October 1871 (almost exactly 100 years before a certain League Cup Final), the intrepid Victorian journalist and explorer Henry M Stanley, after an epic journey of 700 miles through the tsetse fly infested tropical forest, struggled out of the trackless wilderness of central Africa into the tiny village of Ujiji on the shores of Lake Tanganyika to utter the immortal words, “Dr Livingstone, I presume”. Searching for Livingston(e) does not get any easier.

If Stanley had seen the massive queue on the M8 (mate?) or realised the possibility of being cast adrift to wander forever through Silicon Valley if he took a wrong turning at any one of the numerous roundabouts devoid of any friendly sign saying “Football Traffic” (who was Lizzie Brice anyway?), or been warned of the apology for a game of football he and his 200 native bearers would be forced to witness, he might have stayed at home.

The hardy few who emerged from the undergrowth into the Vale of Almonds, the lair of the lurking Livi Lions, dodging the crowds of potential investors hammering at the gates of the stadium, were confronted with three questions to which the answers would have to be Yes, No and No. Love Football, Love Shopping, Love Livingston? To paraphrase the words of Meatloaf, one out of three wouldn’t have been bad, but unfortunately even the football was rank. At least we didn’t have to worry about whether the undersoil heating was on.

The familiar faces of David Rowson, Mark Roberts and Marc Twaddle, as well as loan signing Damon Gray and long term injury absentees Alan Archibald and Liam Buchanan, were missing from the Thistle squad. The irritating stadium announcer caused some amusement by introducing our Slovakian star centre forward as Vitezslav Murdoch, and welcoming Joe Hamill back to the Livingston starting line up, even though he remained firmly nailed to the bench.

It was good to see Ricky Little once again having a place in the team, with fellow youngsters Graeme Eaglesham and Pedram Arkalany being named among the substitutes. Livingston’s promising young centre forward Leigh “Sparky” Griffiths was presented with the Irn Bru Phenomenal Young Player of the Month award for March (when will Jonny Tuffey receive his First Division Player of the Month prize?). A trendy modern interpretation of your reporter’s old favourite instrumental hit Popcorn was the highlight of the pre-match rituals.

While the usual high kick-off hung in the air, the fans were able to work out the Thistle formation. This turned out to be a 5-3-2. Ricky Little was entrusted with the sweeping role between John Robertson and Willie Kinniburgh, with Simon Storey and Kevin McKinlay as wingbacks. Stephen McKeown, Ryan McStay and Gary Harkins were across the middle, while Scott Chaplain was pushed forward to join Vitezslav Mooc in attack.

Most of the first half excitement for the Thistle fans came in the initial three minutes. A McStay freekick eluded the whole defence and fell to Chaplain at the back post. Colin Stewart in the Livingston goal (trying to look like Allan McGregor in his all red outfit) got down well to save the low shot. If Stewart had been in his usual Thistle form, the ball would have been palmed out in front of goal for an attacker to score. Unfortunately he pushed it away for a corner from which Robertson headed over.

Apart from a couple of Gary Harkins efforts which sailed well wide of the goals, that was about it for the next 70 minutes in terms of Thistle’s attacking endeavour. Little put in a few decent long throws, and there were some neat passing moves (a Chaplain wall pass nearly released McKeown), but these generally petered out before any significant opportunity was created. It cannot be said that the final ball was poor as the Jags did not even get into the kind of positions from which final balls can be delivered.

Mooc and Chaplain were unable even to occupy, far less threaten, the Livingston defence. The over-abundance of central midfielders meant that no one was getting into the wide areas loved by football commentators. McKinlay tried hard but found it difficult to escape from his defensive chores marking Robert Snodgrass, to arrive anywhere near the opposing bye-line, and his fellow wingback Storey had an even more difficult task in playing “Tie me kangaroo down, sport” against the lively Graham Dorrans. Liam Buchanan’s ability to work a defence and to pull wide right is a huge miss.

Livingston gradually assumed control of the game and Tuffey, wearing his green Number 12 shirt, had to make competent, if unspectacular, saves from Griffiths and Fox, as well as being pleased to see an effort from Dorrans, following a trademark cutting in run from the left flank, fly high and wide.

Livingston midfielder Mark Tinkler’s hair has turned grey and he attracted shouts of “OAP” and questions regarding what he had done with his bus pass and whether he was Andy McLaren’s brother. Generally, however, the Thistle fans were subdued and silent. The Livingston support seemed surprisingly devoid of passion, despite the prospect of their team slipping into the relegation play offs, and even the jungle drums failed to reach their usual level of intensity.

The home fans were stirred into life when their team took a lead which was deserved on the general run of play, although fortunate in its execution. A Livingston player was allowed to push the ball past a Thistle defender and run unopposed into the left corner of the box. Although the immediate danger was then snuffed out, the defence seemed wrongfooted and when the ball broke to Liam Fox 20 yards out, he proved to be a fox outside the box with a well-struck shot. This would probably not have troubled Tuffey unduly, but the ball took a wicked deflection off Harkins. The sudden new looping trajectory foxed the goalkeeper and the ball flew high into the right hand corner of the net.

This goal typifies what Thistle have been missing in recent weeks and indeed for most of the season. Most of our goals have been well-constructed and have ended with a killer strike from close range. The speculative effort from longer distance has not been an effective part of the armoury. This will have to change for next season, as the goals necessary to mount a serious promotion challenge cannot all come from walking the ball into the net.

Despite some more vocal backing from the fans, Thistle could not divert the flow of play towards their goal. From a cleverly placed low freekick, McPake stole in front of the defence and his shot scudded just wide. Snodgrass was as ineffective as ever against Thistle, but seemed to bring out the darker side of what little enthusiasm the Jags brought into the match. Harkins sent him tumbling and was lucky not to be booked. Tuffey tried to come too far to claim the resultant freekick and uncharacteristically left himself in no man’s land. McPake was even closer this time and his free header bounced on the bar and flew over.

The half-time music was “Feels like some kind of rush”. Even one goal would feel like some kind of rush in these days of famine, or perhaps Ian Rush, who cannot be much older than Simon Donnelly, could be dusted down to provide the predatory instincts currently lacking in the Thistle strike force. Some keen young lads provided entertainment on the pitch, running simultaneously in pairs from the halfway line to try to be the first to put their ball past the respective opposing goalkeepers. One of the goalies always came out to meet his attacker and saved quite a few. His counterpart must have been an internet geek as he stayed permanently online and consequently was usually easily beaten.

After a hitting the crossbar competition, which unfortunately the absent David Rowson was unable to enter, the teams jogged out for the second half. As the stadium announcer was asleep, it took some time to grasp the radical change of personnel and formation which Ian McCall had introduced. Three substitutes were committed (Pedram Arkalany was the unlucky one not to be used and hopefully he will be given his chance next week), with Eaglesham, Donnelly and temporary fans’ favourite Keegan, replacing Little, McStay and Mooc.

While the removal of McStay, who yet again signally failed to take the opportunity to remind us of his early season promise, and the anonymous Mooc could be attributed to poor performance, the same could not be said of Little. Taking the sweeper out of the equation enabled Thistle to adopt a 4-4-2 formation. Storey and McKinlay became the fullbacks, Donnelly joined a midfield also bolstered by Chaplain moving back into his conventional role, and Keegan and Eaglesham were partnered up front.

The enthusiasm of the Thistle fans, and the volume of the singing, increased markedly, encouraged partly by a greater dynamism in Thistle’s play, and partly by the sight of the perennially mournful Colin Stewart, who has the look of a man who knows all too well that his wife is much better at football than he is. Could Colin and Julie not take on the lead roles in a remake of Gregory’s Girl? Livingston would be just as appropriate a dull Central Belt new town backdrop as Cumbernauld.

Although the new formation looked more direct and purposeful, with Keegan flinging himself about and Eaglesham eager to run about after everything, there was little end product which this reporter can remember, apart from one attack which ended with both the front pair having shots half-blocked. The referee Anthony Law looked disconcertingly like Dick Campbell and proved to be A Law unto himself by penalising Thistle for daring to challenge for the ball each time a freekick or corner was floated into the box.

The game gradually settled back into its previous pattern, with Livingston still having the bulk of the play. Fox and Dorrans made Tuffey earn his corn, with one save in particular, pushing a Fox drive over the bar, seeming to be of special quality. Fox was worthy of the man of the match award handed out by the Livingston sponsors, if only for his willingness to enliven proceedings by having a go at goal whenever opportunity presented itself.

Thistle’s best attack was around the 73rd minute. A Donnelly strike from just outside of the box pulled out a good low save from Stewart. Eaglesham did his best to get on to the end of the rebound, but the defence scrambled this away for yet another unproductive corner. Shortly thereafter a wasted Thistle free kick in an attacking position allowed Livingston to break upfield, and with the Jags defence outnumbered, Craig James drilled a shot narrowly wide.

Steven Weir replaced the no longer sparking Leigh Griffiths. Kevin McKinlay roused the largest cheer of the afternoon from the frustrated away support by blatantly taking out Robert Snodgrass in a challenge which would have been more at home on an ice hockey rink, a clear a yellow card as you ever will see. Tuffey had to be alert and brave to be first to a loose ball in the box and took a hefty knock from Weir for his pains. For a moment it looked as though there could be serious consequences, but Jonny soon recovered. Snodgrass hobbled off (with an evil glare towards McKinlay) and was substituted by Steven Craig.

There was no late charge from Thistle, partly because the referee blew for full-time rather early, not adding on the time which had been taken for various injured players to be treated on the pitch. If it had mattered, we might have complained more. The last act was to wish Graham Dorrans well as he becomes a Boing Boing Baggie next season, before we trooped out into the cold breeze (your reporter being last to leave as the sleep induced by Thistle’s performance led to his jacket being temporarily left behind). The main regret was being deprived of Paul Keegan giving us a Riverdance goal celebration.

When Henry M Stanley left Livingstone at Ujiji (an African greeting for a horse?), he wanted to go East, but the village elders directed him West. He became hopelessly lost and ended up discovering the Congo (next time you are caught up in a long line of people doing a ridiculous dance at an office party, you will know whom to blame). After discovering Kirkton Campus and the road to Fauldhouse, we eventually escaped from the Dark Continent and made it home.

We can at least look forward to some excitement and tension and a healthy away support at Firhill next week as a team comes to town desperate to avoid the relegation play-offs. The answer lies in Henry Stanley’s middle name - MORTON!.

Man of the match: Jonny Tuffey