Kilmarnock 0
Dundee 0
League (Premier Division)

Match Report

Newspaper extract from The Sunday Post.

I don't like being too hard on players doing their best to keep the fans happy, but, really, this match was like knocking your head against a brick wall. It was a blessed relief when it stopped.

Harsh? Maybe, but I'm sure it gets the nod of approval from all my fellow sufferers within the confines of Rugby Park.

Of course, it wasn't all bad. At some stages the game actually reached the heights of being ordinary!

The law of averages dictates that no matter how poor teams may look, over 90 minutes, they must produce something of note.

Here, both lined up one chance - Killie first half, Dundee second. Both were squandered due to lack of practice as much as any thing.

Take Killie's for starters. The ball was swung into the middle. The goalie was nowhere. Ken Eadie was in glorious isolation with the ball landing plumb on his forehead.

Sadly he headed the ball where he was looking-and that was heavenwards at the time!

Young Kenneth wasn't asked to appear after the break, presumably he missed out on Eric Sinclair following suit.

The big centre strolled on to a loose ball well inside the box with the goalie grounded. The goal must have seemed a mile wide to him.

What did he do? Side-foot the ball along the ground into the net? Don't you believe it. Eric, In Andy Irvine fashion, smashed the ball over the bar.

Both managers will be delighted not to have lost, but I wish their players had been more intent on winning.

On this display, the Clunie Casuals and the Mackay Meanderers will be tolling to keep their heads above water among the elite. A vast improvement is needed.

Best for Killle were Alan McCulloch (a fine kicker of by kicks), Derrick McDicken (a fine kicker of long, high clearances), and Brian Gallacher (a fine chaser of lost causes!).

Dundee? Over the piece they were slightly less bad than Kilmarnock. Colin Kelly, Jim Smith, Cammy Fraser and lain Ferguson did all right.

The number of fans in the ground on the final toot of Colin White's whistle summed it all up-a couple of hundred at the most, I reckon.