I feared the worst when I tuned in to the club’s website for the twitter feed and saw we were a goal down. But we’ve come back in a few games recently so not all hope was lost.
In the end I saved it for teletext after the game.
It seems Brian Prunty did his overhead kick thing again. Against one of his old clubs too! I can’t remember too many of our players finding the net against previous employers; it usually happens the other way. (Iain Russell’s a shoo-in to score against us today.)
A draw’s not too shabby out of this. I’d like to see us start picking up points at home but it seems we just play better away.
There are two qualifications to this post. The category I’ve placed it in is actually not quite accurate. Though Berwick Rangers play in the Scottish Leagues the ground is of course situated south of the border so is not technically a Scottish football ground. Shielfield is also south of the River Tweed so I suppose it’s really in Tweedmouth rather than Berwick.
There is a grassed lane leading from the road to the ground. The away terrace can be viewed from it.
A little to the left of the above is the main entrance.
Entering through the turnstiles you can see the main stand.
The nearest goal to the entrance. Wide spaces between it and the spectator area.
The away terrace with covered enclosure.
With the low slung stand and slope the ground has similarities to Recreation Park, Alloa – though the terracing and cover there was removed a couple of years ago and replaced with temporary seating. This is the goal at the lower end of the slope at Shielfield.
Before Saturday’s game at Shielfield there was a minute’s silence to mark the helicopter crash in Glasgow. The photo below was taken immediately prior to that minute.
While the events at the Clutha Vaults were tragic I can’t help feeling that there was something mawkish about this rush to commemorate it while the rescue efforts were still in train.
I can remember the time when the only such silences took place on the death of a former player, manager or director of either of the clubs concerned; I don’t think they even took place on the Saturay before Remembrance Sunday.
This looks to me to be a symptom of the creeping sentimalisation of the culture which began on the death of Diana, former Princess of Wales.
The current prevalence of minute’s silences is in danger of minimising their impact.
Book Two of The Gravedigger Chronicles. Tor, 2013, 433 p
This retains many of the characters from Campbell’s previous novel in this series, Sea of Ghosts. The only Gravedigger left, though, is Colonel Granger, now more or less in the thrall of a replicating sword which produces copies of Granger to enhance his fighting powers. This takeover by the sword has the consequence that he dies in the novel (twice over) but he is still nevertheless a participating agent in the story at the novel’s end. This is, then, a fantasy after all. Other familiar names are Ianthe (Granger’s daughter,) Briana Marks and Ethan Maskelyne. Ianthe is now engaged to the Unmer Prince Paulus Marquetta, who may have wooed her merely to earn her protection. She was the power whereby the Unmer defeated their enemies the Haurstaf in Book One.
Various plot strands thread the novel. Marquetta is on a quest to recover the lost Unmer throne of Losoto, Granger to throw off the sword’s influence, Maskelyne to uncover a mysterious Unmer artefact and there is the entropath (an “elder god”) Fiorel’s wish to revenge himself on Argusto Conquillas who killed his daughter Duna in the prologue. These all come together at the climax with a sort of tournament of sorcery. In addition we find out the true nature of Granger’s, and so also Ianthe’s, lineage.
Along the way we have some philosophical aperçus. Of a particularly hideous bodily alteration:- “The human mind can come to accept even the most grievous change.” Then, “If every cell and every drop of blood … in your body had been replaced. Every memory. Would you know?”
The issues of proof reading which I noted in Sea of Ghosts were mostly absent here, thankfully. The first did not come till page 224 “He wondering” has a “was” missing, then (on page 225!) “When the reached the lamp.” Campbell does, though, make the common attribution of maw as mouth rather than stomach (which I suppose we’ll have to accept as the new orthodoxy as it appears as the first definition in dictionary.com) and there is a single misuse of “whom”.
The author’s powers of description are as prodigious as ever but as the second in a (presumed) trilogy The Art of Hunting does have a slight sense of marking time. In particular it lacks a firm conclusion. But there has to be something to make readers wish for a third volume. More of the engaging character of, Siselo, Conquillas’s young daughter would be a good thing.
Fantasy is not really my thing, but Campbell can write.