Goals for us:
1) Willie McLachlan (away to Dumbarton) - Bloody screamer, 2-2 at the point with ten men and they were in the ascendency. We got a free-kick straight from kick-off from about 30 odd yards out, up steps McLachlan (taking his first free-kick for us - I think - at the time) and belts it into the top left hand corner. Ooft.
2) John Stewart (away to Alloa) - Great build up on the wing, allowing McLachlan space on the right wing to whip in a cross on the edge of their box, with Johnjo Stewart to come out of nowhere and, hitting it first time, smacked it with his left foot in the top corner.
3) Willie Sawyers (away to Brechin) - After collecting a flick on from debutant Jordan White, Sawyers ran at the Brechin defence, and from 25 yards out he blasted an unstoppable shot in the left hand side of goal, flicking off the post and nestling in the net.
Goals against us:
1) David McClune (away to Alloa) - 25 yards out, smacking an injury time volley into the top corner earning them a draw. I hate thinking about it. Just awful.
2) Steven Doris (away to Arbroath) - Near the end of the match, and I wasn't in the best position to see it as I was just about walking to the exit, I just saw the ball in the air, and Doris connecting with it superbly and it flew in the net. Reidford didn't have a chance.
3) I can't think of another goal
What is my perfect crime? I break into Tiffany's at midnight. Do I go for the vault? No. I go for the chandelier - it's priceless. As I'm taking it down a woman catches me. She tells me to stop. It's her father's business. She's Tiffany. I say 'no'. We make love all night. In the morning the cops come and I escape in one of their uniforms. I tell her to meet me in Mexico, but I go to Canada. I don't trust her. Besides, I like the cold. Thirty years later I get a postcard. I have a son and he's the chief of police. This is where the story gets interesting: I tell Tiffany to meet me in Paris, by the Trocadero - she's been waiting for me all these years; she's never taken another lover. I don't care, I don't show up. I go to Berlin. That's where I stash the chandelier.