Since moving to London more than 30 years ago, and becoming concerned with chronicling the activities of the big battalions in the south, my awareness of events around Rugby Park has grown more vague. But what has never faded is the sense of the warmth and self-deprecating humour that pervade the old town's affection for its team. The locals may tell you that if you have a grudge against a man you should give him a greyhound or a Kilmarnock season ticket, but the communal loyalty is deep and persistent.

Sometimes it can be a little fierce. That was the case when Tommy Burns, who (from unpromising beginnings as a player-manager) had brilliantly raised them from the Second to the Premier Division, defected abruptly to Celtic. It was unreasonable to ask that Burns, given his Celtic roots, should resist the overtures from Parkhead and anybody who suggests that his recent eviction from the manager's job there was poetic justice deserves chastising with that celebrated item of traditional headgear, the Big Kilmarnock Bunnet. Alex Totten, who took over for a spell after Burns's departure, is in charge of Falkirk and that will bring an extra edge to the proceedings when the present manager, Bobby Williamson, leads his men out on Saturday. With victories in the League lately over Rangers and Celtic, Williamson has grounds for confidence, especially if the wide players he has nurtured since he was a coach with Kilmarnock's youth squad, Alex Burke (19) and David Bagan (20), perform at their penetrative best and the experienced and skilful striker, Paul Wright, recovers from the injury inflicted by an opponent's studs. As he surveys a town bright with visual and loud with verbal declarations of support, and marvels at the clamorous eagerness with which all 23,500 tickets allocated to the club were bought up, Williamson knows how much this final means to a proud community that has suffered grievously in the past few decades.

Kilmarnock was once blessed with such a rich diversity and reassuring balance of industries that, among Scotland's medium-sized towns (the population is slightly under 50,000), it seemed just about the safest bet to escape the worst ravages of unemployment and urban blight. But the industries have thinned out alarmingly and the signs of joblessness and poverty were obvious in the streets when I went home for my latest, brief visit last week.
Adding to the pain, there is the constant evidence of the havoc wreaked on the fabric and the very personality of the place by planners whose philistinism is a crime that should have led to prosecution.