Red Lichties in five-goal drama
“Red Lichties” translates roughly as “Little Red Lights” and is the popular name of the Arbroath Football Club team. Their claim to fame is recording the highest score ever in a senior football match when they beat Bon Accord 36 – 0 in a cup match on 12 September 1885. It is reputed that the score would have been even higher if time had not been lost repeatedly recovering the ball from the sea when kicked out of play. It appears that the Arbroath goalie never touched the ball and spent the game sheltering from the rain under an umbrella supplied by a supporter.
Arbroath is special to me because, after driving groups of students in a noisy smelly Landrover on a hot dusty motorway north from Leicester to Aberdeen (en route to Shetland) every summer for some 30 years, the fishing port of Arbroath was where we finally reached the sea. So it was a matter of strolling round the harbour to fill lungs with fresh sea air before consuming fish and chips from Peppo’s chippery. All washed down with pint (or two) of “heavy” in the Smugglers’ Tavern before bedding down for the night in a local camp site before the final run in to Aberdeen the following morning.
This week the Red Lichties had an evening home game against East Stirling and I felt the urge to go north to support them, as well as to obtain an overdue supply of Arbroath Smokies. I arrived on a sunny afternoon of 26 March and rapidly refreshed my memories of the harbour area. My attention was quickly drawn to a pale gull in immature plumage, much paler than the numerous Herring Gulls, that proved to be an Iceland Gull, quite a rarity!
An immature Iceland Gull, a pale rarity from the Arctic, was looking for scraps around the harbour
This flight shot shows the pure white primaries which easily distinguishes it from a Herring Gull
The warm weather meant that the shutters of one of the fish smoking houses were open, and I could see the small haddocks hanging up waiting to be smoked. I’d leave my purchase until the last minute...
By tea time, Peppo’s was open and I indulged myself in a fish supper to be eaten, as by Ancient Custom and Practice, on the benches by the harbour where the gulls queued up for scraps.
I slept the night camping in my X-trail near the dunes of the lovely Lunan Bay, a little north of Arbroath. I spent the next morning birdwatching in the area and saw seabirds such as Fulmar, Kittiwake, Red-throated Diver and Razorbill. A foray north to the Montrose Basin (stamping ground of fellow blogster The Trabant Driver) where I found a skein of Pink-footed Geese, and made a brew with my Kelly Kettle by the Bridge of Dun.
Then it was back to Arbroath to park up right on the harbour edge ready for the night, knowing that I would not be driving after the match, and the ensuing nightcap in the Smugglers’ Tavern. During the afternoon, I indulged in a little Geocaching, and placed in a local cache a Travel Bug that I had snatched in South Wales from Tortoiseshell .
It was finally time to wander down to Gayfield Park where the spring daffodils were in magnificent display.
Gayfield Park at daffodil time, home of the Red Lichties.
Notice the proximity of the football ground to the sea!
Notice the proximity of the football ground to the sea!
As a matter of course, pre-match refreshment was taken in Tuttie’s Neuk, the fans’ pub, where I indulged in some good-natured banter and posturing with some 'away' fans, before crossing the road to see the game.
The game turned out to be quite a thriller, with the Red Lichties squandering the two-goal advantage they had acquired just after half time when two cracking quick goals from East Stirling levelled the score, much to the delight of the Away Fans (all 17 of them) who never stopped singing behind their goal throughout the whole game. (In Arbroath the respective fans dutifully exchange ends at half time in order to be behind their own goalmouth).
At length a free kick awarded to the Red Lichties on the edge of the East Stirling penalty box resulted in a deflected goal, and so the Arbroath fans could celebrate a home victory. Two balls were kicked out of the ground into the sea during the match but, unlike the occasion in 1885, replacement balls were rapidly supplied from the technical area and no time was lost.
And so it was a matter of indulging in a couple of drams in the Smugglers' Tavern before snuggling down in my sleeping bag for the night in the back of my X-Trail.