My Favourite Pars Matches

The Battle of Bordeaux
By DR

Season 1969/70, Fairs’ Cup, the Pars were drawn against Bordeaux and the first leg, at East End, finished Dunfermline 4 Bordeaux 0, thanks to goals by Paton (2), Barrie Mitchell and Pat Gardner. Bordeaux had two men sent off, which hinted at worse to come in Bordeaux. 

I was young and fit at the time and I had a week off when the second leg was to be played. I also had a pal who was off so we decided to hitchhike to France to attend the game. 

A distance of 1067 miles did not put us off and off we set. 

We cheated because we took my car to Dover which used up 488 miles of our journey. My car was an ancient Morris Minor which I’d purchased 11 months earlier. The attraction of the car was the 12 month guarantee. That meant the MOT was due 3 weeks after we returned. Perhaps not surprising the MOT was a fail and the car condemned. £5 from the scrappy was a blow. Why a car which had just returned from a 690 mile journey to and from Dover was so harshly dealt with I do not know! 

The first day of our journey took us to London where my pal had relatives. They gave us a bed for the night, a hearty breakfast and then it was off to Dover. We bought return tickets on the ship and off we sailed. 

When we got to Calais there was a bit of a walk to the centre of town. It was getting late when we found a shop that was getting a facelift. To our surprise we were able to enter the building and an upstairs large room was deemed suitable for a night’s sleep. An hour after dropping off we awoke to find the room full of teenagers. They had obviously been using the building as a meeting place. Fortunately they ignored us and left not long after arriving. 

In the morning it was time for the trip to Paris. Hitchhiking produced no lifts and we started off on a 30 mile walk. Feeling fed up we took a train to Paris and hoped for some lifts later in our journey. From the station in Paris lifts were still not forthcoming. It was getting dark and we spotted a field littered with cardboard; just the thing to use for a mattress and we settled down for the night. 

Up early the next morning and we were on our way. Almost immediately we got a lift from a French soldier, a long lift which gave us hope. The soldier took us to his flat and gave us orange juice, and then took us on the road to Bordeaux. Another lift from a farmer and tractor and trailer. Such a shame this lift was only 2 miles. However at least we were going the right way. No more lifts, another 30 mile walk and the onset of repetitive strain injury to the thumb region! 

We needed a re-think. We walked into a small town with a train station. We enquired about the price of tickets to Bordeaux then Bordeaux to Calais. Pulling our funds we found we could afford it but we’d be left with 4 francs each. What to do? Go on or abandon our trip? We had come so far so we decided to go on. The prospect of not seeing the game and starving to death were risks we decided to take. 

Now in the building where I worked was a man I knew well: Bob Torrie, a director of the Club. I’d told him of our planned journey and said if we made it to Bordeaux we’d pop in to see him at the Grand Hotel. So off to the Grand we went. 

When we entered the hotel the first person we saw was George Farm. We approached him, two starving exhausted Pars Fans dressed in our kilts, and told him why we were there. He responded with two words “F off”. We were quite surprised at his response then saw Bob Torrie and another club director, Andrew Watson. 

They were so pleased and amazed to see us and were capable of saying more than two words. They told us to go through to the dining room and have a meal with the players. They said to look for them later so they could tell us what number of room they had booked for us. They also said they’d get us tickets for the match. 

This was great as we were no longer worried about starving to death and there would be no need to nick an old woman’s bag in the hope she’d have enough francs for us to get into the game! 

It was a very good meal and the players were keen to hear our stories about what we had been up to. Doug Baillie and trainer Andy Stevenson were particularly interested in how we had made it to Bordeaux. 

The first player to leave was George Dandy Maclean who said he was off out to look for some burdz. My pal and I wondered if this was what he needed the night before an important European tie! 

We had an early night and in the morning we joined the team for breakfast. It was a good breakfast and we stuffed ourselves in the realisation that this would probably be the last chance of food for some time. We spent the day roaming Bordeaux. It was then time for the match. Off to the ground we go and to our surprise we were seated. 20,000 of a crowd. That is, 2 Pars fans and 19,998 folk shouting for Bordeaux. The fans around us were great company. 

The game kicked off and what a game! Bordeaux were hacking, tripping, pulling jerseys, tapping heels and unbelievably adding to a comprehensive repertoire of fouling tactics they had shown in the 1st leg. The game ended Bordeaux 2-0 DAFC. They scored in 18 mins with the second goal on 87 mins so we were never in trouble; we were in the next round. 

There was a pitch invasion. At half time the Pars players had decided to go to the centre circle and all walk off together. When they reached the dressing room they realised someone was missing. George Maclean. 5 mins later in he walked with blood pouring from his head. He’d been hit with a can. He said he was lucky ~ the can had been filled with light ale. 

Newspaper reports the next day were along the lines of “Fifers through after battle of Bordeaux”. 

The referee was from Belgium. He was very weak and should have sent off several players. At one point I shouted a word to him which questioned the marital status of his parents at the time of his birth. As soon as the word left my lips I remembered that the English version was very close to that of the French one but the fans around us were well behaved and we had no problems. 

With the game ended we headed off by train to Calais before boarding a ship to Dover. We congratulated ourselves in having the foresight to have bought a return ticket as it saved us a 21 mile swim. 

As soon as we arrived in Dover we were off to the bank; bought two fish suppers and sat and ate it in a local cinema. Then off to the car and we were amazed at it starting first time. We thought it was probably warmer in Dover and we were able to dispense with the usual push start. 

On the way north we stopped off in Penrith where I had relatives: George and Christina Skelton. Their two grandchildren are Gavin Skelton who played for Gretna, Kilmarnock, Hamilton and Queen of the South; and Helen Skelton who is a regular presenter on TV. 

We were so glad we had made the trip: it was an adventure!

If anyone, after reading this tale, wants to hitchhike to Bordeaux go ahead but (1) take stout shoes (2) the French are not keen on hitchhiking; and (3) take plenty cash. You’ll need it!