The Slow Match Report: Stenhousemuir 2 Arbroath 0

A crooked mascot, a crocked ref and a cathartic (astroturf) knee slide ... these are dizzying, delightful days for the high-flying Warriors

Outside Farmfoods, a plump man berated his Yorkshire Terrier with wild, beetroot-faced rage. It brought to mind Sir Alex Ferguson volcanically scolding some scrawny Fourth Official for failing to display enough injury time at the end of a game. “Come oan, Bella,” he roared, “For Christ’s sake! Ye’ve sniffed that already, ya wee shite” before hauling the poor girl off in the direction of the Four in One takeaway, possibly for a Braveheart Pizza (£12.05).

It was difficult to discern traces of football. Only a few hundred yards away, a top-of-the-table fixture was soon to kick off and yet there were no supporters knotting their scarves and scampering towards the stadium, no frying onions seasoning the air. Follow a stranger wearing home colours as is the custom elsewhere, and you might just have ended up in some kind old dear’s front room watching Flog It! on the grounds that she was wearing a maroon cloche hat. It did not help that the main hospitality venue between the high street and Ochilview is a Tim Horton’s drive-thru. “Banoffee Frappé?” I hoped one of the two Arbroath fans now looking at the café’s menu was remarking, “Isn’t he that French lad who plays for Arsenal?”

Stenhousemuir’s soul, though, is always to be found in the Ochilview Bar. Supporters of both persuasions cascaded down its steps and dashed along Tryst Road, whose neat houses boast something many of us dream of – a football stand at the end of the garden. Picture this: when Highland Toffee and Wham bars were manufactured where Horton’s now lingers, the street could boast a sweet factory and a football ground, as if imagined and drawn in a child’s fantasy map.

Wally the Warrior patrols his territory… plundering from passing kids