Watford 0 - 2 Kickin' Squirrels
(IFA British Cup Match - Watford, 10th May 2003, 11.30am Kick Off)

What a superb weekend it was! This is not so much a report on the game but our weekend as a whole…

We started our adventure early on Saturday morning as we had to catch the 7.10 plane to Luton. When I got there, thanks to kind hearted wimp, a bunch of the guys were already in the queue to check-in. I could sense a nervous excitement amongst the boys. Deep down I felt that we had to win and that in itself made me even more apprehensive.

So, after a nice, healthy breakfast in Burger King we set off. The plane journey was frighteningly smooth and the boys were chatting and joking away as normal. On our landing we were picked up by Watford old boy Panos, who had acquired a mini-bus to transport us to our hotel. We ditched our bags in the one room we were allocated and set off to find some more grub in the town centre, where we fell upon a massively long BHS which had an eatery and served a wonderfully cheap fry up. I don't need to tell you everybody had one.

Trying to find a public house open in Watford at 11am is like me trying to get a date with Jennifer Anniston - never gonnae happen. We walked for miles up and down the town centre in vain, until we noticed an American Pool hall open. When we got up all those stairs, which stank of cat piss, we were told that we would need to pay a membership fee of a tenner, that's a tenner from all of us!! Bugger that…we walked out still trying to fathom how we could still not get into a drinking establishment. 

My feet were getting tired, as were many of the others, so we grabbed a seat in the first pub we saw open and had a fresh orange or two while talking tactics for the impending game. An hour later back at the hotel and we all eventually checked in, after big Dave Yeates tried to confuse the hell out of us and the receptionists.

So, the Watford boys including Rob, Matt et al generously offered us lifts to and from the park. The playing field was located about 2 or 3 miles from our hotel. It was like a small country club, with tennis courts, bowling green and three full size pitches. The pitch we were playing on was not the best…it was virtually rock hard , could hardly get a stud in a couple of inches and there were lots of bare patches due to the lack of rain. The changing rooms weren't much better, in fact, best I could describe it…only slightly better than the bogs at Scummerset!

We had arrived extremely early for us and had time to do a complete warm up for a change. I was trying to impress the bosses with my crossing ability but failed miserably. The boys worked on their shooting as we had not set the heather on fire in the goal-scoring department over our last few games. The warm up seemed to take an eternity but as we got closer and closer to kick off the boys were as focused as I've seen them.

Yours truly had his camera with him and took some team pics and the Captains' handshake before the game as you can see and some action shots. I was then asked to run our defensive line for the ref. The ref was very professional…he had his Hertfordshire Association uniform on and had a word with me about flagging if I see anything untoward that is happening on the other side of the park and I was like…whatever!

The first half from my viewpoint was pretty much evenly contested. Killie started well and had a half-chance on five minutes when Steve Hill crossed from the right wing but Neil McKay couldn't connect with the header to any great degree. We were actually playing some of our best football in ages yet, again not making it count. 

Another opportunity went a begging though in the 20th minute when a great move and run between Alastair Burgess and Ian Cowan split the Watford defence. Burgess ran though on goal but fired his shot too close to the goalkeeper and he turned it round the post.

Watford only troubled us a couple of times, and troubled is probably too strong a word to describe it. On one such occasion they beat the Killie offside trap (Yes he was onside guys!!) but Rob Sterry dragged his shot wide from 14-yards out when it seemed easier to get it on target. There after, Watford only produced a couple of long range efforts that never troubled Ian Brown in the Killie goal.

The first half ended with Killie players' ears ringing. Big Davie was upset at our failure to keep the ball and started ranting in his own predictable way for the five minutes leading up to half-time. Ian Cowan took exception to this and retorted with a tirade of abuse at the big man. When you realise the difference in height and build in these two guys you'll appreciate how funny it was!

The shouting and cursing continued during the half-time break…you could sense that we all wanted to win this game even more than we did at the start and it was to prove that way in the second half. The was a delay in starting the second half because the ref had gone AWOL…mibby he was not professional enough to know a game lasts 90 minutes!

Again, nothing much between the sides can't remember any save both keepers had to make as we reached the midway point of the second half. Substitutes had arrived on the park in the form of Paul Baillie for Steve Hill and Ross Munro for Bryan Reid. I know you all going to say this is bad reporting but, I'm going to be honest.

I didn't see the build up to our first goal (Sorry guys! Still concentrating on my line duties!) but when I looked up there was McKay in on the goalie and he waited until the last possible moment to dink the ball over him from 12-yards. Cue eruption from the Killie bench and the Barbeque-side linesman (Mmmm…barbeque!!). 

Then with 15 minutes to go the management committee decided, strangely, to put me on the park. I replaced Burgess who had injured his ankle as he ran back to defend. I fitted in up front and Neil went to left back. Further changes were required because Jim Dick injured his foot so Reid came back on and Kris Ferguson went to right back. 

I was actually getting a touch of the ball up front. I thought I would not be able to do anything. I thought I would freeze. I didn't. My first touch was a spot on lay-off and I never looked back. In the 77th minute I collected the ball inside the centre circle, in the Watford half, and instantly sent Paul Baillie away running on goal but he was unlucky as his shot was straight at the keeper.

Then, two minutes later Baillie had a similar attempt saved and the ball scooped agonisingly over the crossbar for a corner. Cue 2nd goal. I sprinted…well...jogged to take the kick…I spotted Reid at the corner of the box looking for a short one. It was a beautifully played ball, inch perfect for a first time cross. That cross was on the nose and in, from nowhere, darted John Kirkland to volley the ball home from 12-yards.

Oh we could celebrate now!! And we did!! The injured players on the bench ended up wounding themselves even more as they were jumping up and down in complete delirium. After John scored, he set his sights on me. He had locked on to me with his tractor beam. I felt like Captain Picard as the Enterprise is about to be smashed to smithereens "BRACE FOR IMPACT!!". He jumped on me. Nuff said

Watford tried, in vain, to get something back but again lacked a killer touch and much credit has to go to the make-shift back four for holding on so strongly. The ref blew his final whistle and the Watford boys gave us a cheer of "Hip, Hip Hooray" and reciprocated. What a result! We now know we travel to Leeds for the Semi-final.

The faces on the guys told the whole story. Everybody was beaming. A quick shower and bite to eat and we started our partying. We started in the Escort(?) bar with some of the Watford lads. We played some pool and darts before heading into the town centre where we had the delights of O'Reilly's Bar then Bar Me (Hey, what talent in there, by the way, if you don't mind me saying!!). Then it was on to a club. The club was Area and maist eh us were rather worsh for wera especially after getting tequila poured down your throat while you were on your knees! (Don't ask) Suffice to say nobody, to my recollection, got a lumber although young Kris was having a good time with the dancer at the bar with the aluminous bra and school tie! (again don't ask).

That, however, was not the end of the hilarity. At the end of the night as Jim, Alastair and I had came out the Kebab shop (Mmmm…Lamb Shish) we noticed somebody slouched on a bench eating or trying to eat some take-away chicken & chips. It was our very own Stevie Hill. When we got to him his first words were "Am buckult guys…Am f****n buckult!". 

We decided to escort him back to the hotel. On our way back we stumbled across a party of young revellers from Milton Keynes who were here on a stag night. Stevie

then proceeded to sing "We hate dirty Leeds!" (Don't ask. We still don't know why). Then he decided to get Little Johnny out and pee down a downhill street!! What next??? Bed!

There were sore heids aplenty on the Sunday morning mark my words! Not everyone made the 11am checkout time at reception. We went for another fry up brekky at a quaint little café at the bottom of town, then went next door to the pub to get more alcohol and burn some time until we were taken to Luton.

After three games of Killer and many, many pints we set off for Luton. Again in cars with the Watford boys. We found a Celtic Supporters pub and thought they would be showing the Rangers game but the Gaffer of said it wouldn't go down to well with the locals…I don't know! We stayed there and instead watched the Chelsea-Liverpool match while we got text updates and phone call from mates at home. I'm glad we weren't able to watch it now…oh dear.

On the way home I was given a new nickname by our Stevie. He commented that I had hardly spoken to him over the weekend and ironically called me "Yappafuk". He continued this on the plane home teasing me as I was sitting in silence. In my defence it is hard, as many people will know, to get in a word edgeways with him but that's just the way I am! Altogether now "C'mon now!!!"

BTW -  I would just like to say thanks to Stevie for his tremendous efforts in making all the arrangement and how everything went smoothly I'll never know. Three cheers for Stevie Hill!

Kickin' Squirrels: Brown, Dick, Burgess, Kirkland, Yeates, Reid, Kiltie, Cowan, Ferguson, McKay, Hill.
Subs: McFadzean, Munro, Baillie, Harper

Match report courtesy of Bungle