JOHN HILLCOAT

Aug 5 2007 John Hillcoat

I'M an absolute sucker for a good duo.

Whether it's Saint and Greavsie, The Chuckle Brothers or even as simple as plain old strawberries and cream - it doesn't matter.

Because if it goes together well then it's guaranteed yours truly will be all over it like a tramp on a fish supper.

But for me, there's one combination that will never, ever be beaten.

And that's stroking the tango around the park on a Saturday afternoon before DOING the tango on the dance floor with your team-mates that night.

That was exactly what my Stenhousemuir buddies and I had to look forward to after our gaffer Campbell Money arranged a wee trip to the Highlands last week.

There's no doubt that pre-season training would be a lot less enjoyable if players didn't have an overnight stay with a decent game and a right good knees up afterwards to mark the start of the new season.

And the prestige and location of the trip isn't really that important.

Just as long as it's far enough away to avoid nagging partners and allows enough kip to nurse a hangover.

Well that and not sharing a room with the most flatulence friendly player in the entire squad - here's looking at you Scott McCulloch.

I swear it was so bad he managed to put the phantom raspberry blower to shame.

But last Saturday's trip to Inverness to play Highland League outfit Forres Mechanics got off to a funny start for me.

The flutter of butterflies in my stomach had me up and ready for action at the crack of dawn.

The gaffer had arranged for us to be at Ochilveiw for 9am sharp for breakfast.

And Mary, Linda and Gulia from the stadium's pie stall excelled themselves again as they laid on poached eggs and toast for the lads to scoff.

Before I met up with fellow car travellers John Dillon, Craig Menzies and Craig McEwan - who has a row of teeth like a witch doctor's necklace thanks to many an on-field collision - I was told to wear the club's exclusive leisurewear.

But what they really meant was the horrific Stenny trackie.

Everything about this wee club so far has been dynamite but as soon as I saw kit men Geordie and Jim handing them out with face masks and yellow marigolds on, I knew there was trouble afoot.

Words couldn't describe how I felt when I looked in the mirror with my new knock-off David Icke shell suit. To make matters worse I nearly died when I glanced down at my size six feet to find them drowned in a bell bottom sea of shiny navy blue.

I was like shell suit Boab and a Bay City Roller all in one.

But my saving grace was that I would soon be meeting up with another 20 or so unlucky Shangalangs.

And they also had to endure the sheer humiliation of knowing that they'd made the local tramp look like a sharp dressed man.

Our journey to the Highlands was soon underway as the players and staff quickly settled with their magazines and looked forward to the four-hour trip ahead.

But the first mistake was made by yours truly when I realised I'd plonked myself next to the human sleeping pill that is Craig McEwan.

I realise that I give the wee man some undue stick but the pelters he received for this latest episode were deserved.

He put everyone into a coma with his old Ayr Utd stories and the fact he's the joint leader in caps for the Scotland under-21 side along with Christian Dailly.

Thank God the driver didn't hear him or we could have been in REAL trouble! That said, skipper Stevie Ferguson's unbelievable patter did make the long journey fly in.

Although the disappointing 2-2 draw with the Highlanders put the damper on what we'd planned for the night ahead.

AYE RIGHT!

The beer that the gaffer had bought for the journey back to Inverness went down a treat and set us up perfectly for that evening.

There was a quick change at the hotel before the lads were seated for dinner.

Our vice chairman Martin McNairney and club directors Terry Bullock and Bill Darroch also joined us at the table.

And the £200 they kindly donated to the players' kitty soon ran dry as we danced the night away.

But a night out is never complete without a good old fashioned sing-song.

And as we congregated in the hotel foyer at 2am to sing Saturday Night At The Movies I could swear it sounded better than the original.

A great night was had by all and it seemed to help strengthen bonds between certain players.

The next morning we had even more in common on the bus journey home - which resembled a doctor's waiting room due to the fragile state of some guys.

But they say that a team who socialise well together win together-let's hope that's the case for Stenny this year.

'Fergie's daft chat made our trip fly in'