Dr Andrew Stevenson Lamb MSc Bsc Phd FTJ TTFN BRB lol

Interesting Fact. I found out  a few years ago that my maternal grandfather, (who came from Milton) used to go and watch Partick Thistle home and away (so if I can atone in some small ways for his sins and general lack of football taste then all the better!!!!)

When I was a lad, I went along to all five grounds in Glasgow and my Dad, a Rangers supporter, gave me the option to "choose who you want to support son!!"
So that is what we did. We went to Ibrox, Parkhead, Firhill, Shawfield and Hampden to watch the Glasgow teams and it just so happened that the week we went to watch Clyde (Season 1983-84) when we played Forfar at Shawfield and won 4-2. It was after this game that I excitedly turned to my dad and said, " Dad this is MY team, I want to be a Clyde supprter" and I should have been worried by his reply which was simply, " Are you sure Son??? Ah well it's your choice!!"

I started going along to Shawfield  on a more regular basis towards the end of our time there, due to my friendship with David Stirling and Rod MacKenzie (Garrowhill Clyde and Glasgow Branch on the O/S) and then onto Firhill, Douglas Park and the football mecca that is Cumbernauld.

Highs
Has to be beating Celtic 2-1 going on 5-1 with lots of people from all over the world watching I remember waking up the morning after with a huge bruise on my arm, I phoned Glasgow Branch who informed me proudly that he had done my Insulin for me the night before when I had passed out in Georgics due to the copious amounts of alcohol on offer. I also remember buying EVERY newspaper in W.H. Smith's in Glasgow Central Station before getting the train back down to Bolton and nearly crying with pride as every paper recounted how well we had played, how we had played for the jersey and with such determination and how it should have been a lot more.
When I arrived back in Bolton I went into the office at Bolton Uni to show face and to a man all my colleagues stood up and clapped and cheered. I lost it! The tears started and I was bawled like a wean. I was so proud!

I would also like to say that the Glasgow Branch bus going to away games was a hoot, with the characters up the back smuggling cans of lager and bottles of cider on. People like Andy Peters, Keg, Middy, Craigy, Brian, Shiney, John McCone, Connor, John McCann, Ali Mcmillan and Lee, Kevin, Ross, Colin, Stevie Russell, The railway Children et al. all great guys and a great laugh. I remember one time I  had tried to dye my hair blond (I was young) and it turned out less than perfect. I was running late and ran up to catch the bus as per normal at Georgics on George Square (we were off to Palmerston to play Queen of The South) and when I got on, to a man the whole back of the bus started a chorus of "The Lion Sleeps Tonight"

Lows
It has to be the game against ICT when a win would have sent us up to the promised land of The SPL. I remember the feeling after the game as one of abject despair. We had done so well all season and could have done it the previous two games.
Also the feeling after the B&Q Cup final against Ross County. I was so livid after the penalty shootout that I kicked the wall at MacDiarmid Park and fractured my wee toe and couldn't play football at Uni for two months thereafter

Favourite Player
As a youngster It was Colin McGlashan until the badge kissing incident.
So I would have to say Snowy Morrison, Paddy Keogh, Keith Knox or Ross MacFarlane

Favourite Away Ground
Brechin a great day out and the hedge is always very charming.

Least Favourite Away Ground
Cliftonhill, Coatbridge. The phrase "A dive" does not do the ground credit, there are council parks which are better.

Originally from:

Baillieston, Glasgow

Current location:

Stockport (via Bolton)

Harry Paterson

Originally from:

Springhall, Rutherglen

Current location:

Texas (via California and Zurich)

Bryan Macpherson

On the 20^th September 1986, a thirteen year old Hebridean pushed his way through the turnstiles and, as it turns out, stumbled into the first chapter of his story as a Clyde supporter.

I'd been living in Glasgow for four years by then, and my attendance at football matches during this period had largely been dictated by the accident of birth that determines whether you're a Rangers or Celtic supporter. In all honesty, the preceding ten years growing up in the Islands had given me little insight into the game. The first match I'd seen on television was the 1980 Scottish Cup Final where the first 15 minutes were taken up by fans inexplicably trading punches on the pitch before the game had even started, and the second was when David Narey put Scotland ahead against Brazil in the 1982 World Cup Finals. In both cases, I lost interest after half an hour and found something else to do. Still, I'd learnt two things – Old Firm matches are mostly taken up with fighting, and Scotland are better at football than Brazil.

The turnstiles in question were those at Firhill (though that particular afternoon may well have been one of the times I took the cheaper route of climbing over a poorly supervised back wall into the terracing). Living in the West End, and with an unfortunate close proximity to Thistle fans, I'd become increasingly drawn to visiting Firhill and supporting whichever away club was playing that day. I still have a fondness in remembering my brief stints cheering on Brechin, St Johnstone, Ayr United and and such like - and the disdain this aroused each Saturday amongst my classmates on the other side of the segregation fence. No red and yellow this Saturday though and, consequently, no purpose in supporting the away team.

This afternoon it was the new tenants who were playing. Clyde had been plucked from their home that summer and faced an uncertain future in unfamiliar surroundings. The analogy that bound us seems more obvious looking back.

By the time Clyde found a place to call home, it was time for me to do the same. The islands and the city had been alternating transient bases for me for the past thirteen years, shuttling back and forth as student life and holidays allowed. The logistics of real life demanded a choice.

So I returned to Benbecula in 1995, leaving behind Glasgow's many trappings; not least of which was the ease of following Clyde. But such is the familiar burden of the Glasgow Gael - to be equally at home on moor and machair as on Argyle Street and Byres Road, but fated always to live in exile from one or the other.

Originally from:

Benbecula

Current location:

Benbecula (via Glasgow)

Walter Marshall

Origins: Dennistoun 1956
School: High School of Glasgow
First Season: 67/68
Best Season: 72/73
Low Point: 0-0 v.Airdrieonians 1972 Div.1 when Billy Beattie got sent off. (close 2nd v ICT in 2004)
High Point: 1-0 v.Clydebank a year later when we clinched the Div 2 Championship 
Exiled: Partly in 1974 when my family moved then fully in 1977 when I finished at Strathclyde Uni.
Now based in Sheffield (since 1990) via Wakefield and Northallerton
Favourite Holiday Destinations:  Millport and Islay
Occupation: Been in the licensed trade for most of the past 30 years in Area Manager type roles.

Above are the facts but here is the story.

Living in Dennistoun Shawfield was a good walk away but what a journey! Past the abbatoir,through Bridgeton Cross-sometimes problematic if Celtic were at home-then the walk down Main street. In that first season of "going alone" we still attracted a good following as befitted a team that had finished 3rd the season before. Then after the game,a visit to the "Chippy" just over the bridge and the sometimes happy,often miserable trek home. I was hooked!

I started going to away games outside Glasgow with my school chum Hoggy, one of only 2 other Clyde fans at Glasgow High at that time. (The other was Mr Baines, a History teacher! He declined to accompany us). At one home match,the Castlemilk Branch was mentioned and we started travelling away on a regular basis on coaches we regarded as luxury since they were from Parks of Hamilton. Quality!

Memorable trips to Dunfermline,Clydebank,Berwick,East Stirling et. al. although I fell foul of my father when I dropped myself to the school 2nd XV as they were playing at Old Anniesland whilst the "Firsts" were away at Ayr Academy. That meant I could catch the bus to Alloa! My father played that afternoon at Anniesland and I was grassed up by his team mate...our coach! ( he forgave me quickly as it was him who first took me to Shawfield!) I left Glasgow in 1977 and for a number of years playing rugby became the main focus for my Saturdays. When I moved to football daft Sheffield I began to pick up on The Bully Wee more and more and thus was formed the unofficial Clyde Supporters Sheffield Branch.

Including visits to games with my family when on holiday, I've seen Clyde more in the last 7 years than through the whole of the 80s and 90s. Unfortunately the "Branch" has not yet visited Broadwood although 4 of us did come up for the crunch ICT game. Trips have included Falkirk,Gretna,St.Mirren,QoS,Thistle and most recently Stirling. Now that was a night!

On the trip to St.Mirren it was good to met up with Eric Lennon and others at Caledonian BC before the game. That brought back good memories.
The Branch is awaiting the publication of the fixtures for next season keeping an eye out for the dates for Hampden. Annan,Berwick and I hope a game at Broadwood could mean 4 visits next season. Let's hope its a good one.

Originally from:

Dennistoun

Current location:

Sheffield

Duggie Morton

Awaiting bio

Text

Originally from:

Current location:

Douglas Fleming

Born in Sandyhills in the Parish of Shettleston in the east-end of Glasgow, in the year we beat Celtic to win the Scottish Cup.
One of my family legends is that I was actually at that cup final, albeit I was not born (prematurely) until a week later.
However, my Mother swears she was there with my Granda and it was the excitement of winning which brought about my early entry into the world.
Curiously, I cannot remember anything about that game, however, after such a story, who else could I possibly support?
My earliest memories are of travelling from Auchenshuggle with my Granda to Bridgeton Cross and then walking down Main Street to Shawfield, where I would be lifted over the turnstiles into the Stand and then treated to those wonderful delicacies of a pie and Bovril.
I always thought that those “Pie Wummun” were really formidable characters; however, they appeared to take pity upon this wee urchin and showed me how to add salt and pepper to the Bovril and to make sure that I stirred it until all the ingredients had dissolved.
Suitably equipped with the required sustenance we would obtain a programme and then wander along to the front of the Pressbox to see which “famous” luminaries of the journalistic profession we could spot.
There often were wee placards attached to the lampposts on the way down Main Street, proclaiming that “Hugh Taylor is here today” or some guy from the Times or the Citizen was gracing us with his presence. Ohh!, how exciting was that to be at the same game as these superstars?

Anyway, as time went on, (I could be here all day writing about this), my Father “redeveloped” the family down to Irvine New Town in Ayrshire as he felt that Beardmores (The Forge) where he worked in Parkhead was on its way out.
In that he was correct, and a by product was that I first became an “overspill exile”.
I still managed to get to quite a few games, sometimes resorting to hitch-hiking along the Barrhead Road from Irvine back to Glasgow after playing for the school team in the morning.
Moving on a few more years I then landed up at University in Dundee which made me even more of an exile and my attendances at games were now becoming sparser.
After four years or so there I moved to Perth, having been offered a job there and also having a Perthshire born wife in tow, it seemed a good idea at the time.
I enjoyed my time in Perth and met lots of good people there, however, another challenge soon appeared on the horizon.
I was offered a job which interested me in South Uist.
I took that job and after a while I redeveloped my Perthshire family to Lochboisdale/Daliburgh where my daughter was born.
Opportunities to attend Clyde games were now far and few between.
Cutting a long story short, I subsequently found myself back at the University of Glasgow, working on a research grant project funded by the SRC which eventually ran out and was not refinanced. Ho hum.
After that, I packed my caravan and off we went to Budapest, Hungary where I founded the St Margaret’s Isle branch of the Clyde FC Supporters’ Club, (I think that we had four members, including me).
Then it was off to Stockholm, Sweden, where the locals referred to me as being “English” which I found somewhat disconcerting.
They are not all cute blondies by the way!

I eventually have returned to these shores, older no doubt, wiser?
Well, I’m still a Clyde supporter, judge for yourself.

Originally from:

Shettleston

Current location:

Edinburgh

Chik Duncan

Awaiting bio

Originally from:

Current location:

David Dalziel

My family origins are Oatlands where my grandfather, also named David took me to my first Clyde game in 1955 as a 5 year old. I was at the cup final in 1958 and remember my grandfather and his brothers celebrating long into the night. By this time we had relocated to Mosspark in search of an inside toilet.

My all time Clyde hero is George Herd and I was thrilled to pick up the great man and take him to Broadwood 3 years ago when we celebrated the 50^th anniversary of the cup win. He was everything he hoped that he would be. A real gentleman and great story teller. I was so enthralled with the conversation I missed the turnoff for Cumbernauld.

I served an engineering apprenticeship with Rolls Royce at Hillington and on concluding this I worked in Johannesburg for 4 years. On my return to Glasgow I resumed my love of Clyde FC and have been a season ticket holder, executive member, Trust member, trust board member and club Director over the years.

I play football very slowly and badly for LA Soccer Club over 55’s in tournaments in the USA.

Originally from:

Oatlands

Current location:

Bothwell/California

Paul Linley

First game: Clyde v St. Mirren 15/11/03 Won 2-0! It's been pretty much downhill from there on. While I was up there, though, I had the pleasure of meeting the daughter of Frank Mennie (Clyde, '48-'53) and seeing his Cup Final medal!

High points: My first game, obviously, and and the stuffing of Celtic, on Roy Keane's debut. I watched it with a mate on the big screen in a pub in Sheffield, going absolutely mental!

Low points: losing to Caley 08/05/04, knowing we wouldn't win promotion to the SPL.

Favourite players: Steven McConalogue and Jimmy Gibson, stars of my first Clyde games. Darren Sheridan (who also played for my hometown club 'Barnsley'). Honourable mentions for 'ex' Clyde players Pat Nevin and Steven Archibald, who I only knew (at the time) as stars of the english game..

So, why Clyde?? Good question! One I'm often asked, on the all too rare occasions when I'm up there for a game.

When I was a little boy, the youngest of 4 boys, my brothers decided that I was to  support Manchester United, as they did. Indeed one of my earliest memories (aged 6) is of the European Cup Final win over Benfica.

I'm not quite sure how old I was when it happened, but I clearly remember sitting with 'Uncle Andy' as I knew him (he worked with my Dad at the local coal mine, and later lodged with us) and asking him what team he supported. I was already a full on Man. U. fan, by this time. "There's no point telling you," he said, "you won't have heard of them!" I was a persistent little bugger, and pestered him until he told me, " I support Clyde Football Club." He was right, I'd never heard of them!
What I do know, is that from that day on, I started to take an interest in Clyde. It wasn't easy back in those days - there wasn't much to go on. The scores and league tables in the sunday paper. Little bits at the back of the Park Drive Football Yearbook. No internet, no pictures in the English papers.. I wasn't living on scraps - I was living on the faint whiff of scraps!
I remember growing up, playing football in the street. Everyone had a Scottish team, as well as a 'big' club and a 'local' club. We used to 'represent' our clubs in these games. I was the only Clyde boy I knew. All the others supported the old firm, apart from the odd thistle fan. And so it was, until a work's Team Building event in Birmingham circa 2002, when the guy presenting one of the exercises uttered the words "..when I was a ballboy at Clyde Football Club..."
I made a point of talking to him afterwards, telling him that I, too, was a Clyde supporter. "How'd you come to support Clyde?" he wanted to know.. Anyway, we decided, there and then, we'd have to get up for a game. It took us a bit of time, but we got there!

Originally from:

Barnsley

Current location:

Rotherham