by Kevin Guthrie

Created on: January 15, 2008   Last Updated: October 31, 2008

I am often asked whether there is something wrong with me when I tell people how I like to spend my Saturdays between August and April each year. I am a supporter of Cowdenbeath football club, home and away, in any weather. In the early nineties Cowdenbeath were well known, for being the most unsuccessful senior club in Britain, failing to win a single home game in an entire season. Our crowds vary between 300 to the dizzy heights of around 2,000 when local rivals Raith Rovers come calling. Our ground is also the only senior ground in Britain to have a stock-car racing track around it. I know most of the faces in the crowd, but the highlights are not the home games. It's travelling away to such exotic locations as Brechin, Dingwall and Berwick in our jointly owned minibus, purchased just for that purpose, hoping for three points and, occasionally, getting them.

Cowdenbeath are known affectionately as, 'The Blue Brazil', a highly ironic nickname considering the standard of football on show. The title is even printed below the club badge and matchday programmes carry the badge of the Brazilian football federation on the front cover. Rumours that the Brazilian national team are called, 'The Yellow Cowdenbeath', are believed to be wide of the mark.

The team has a proud, if largely unsuccessful history. Founded in 1880 (although the record books will tell you 1881) the club recently celebrated its 125th anniversary. Cowdenbeath is a town built on coal, or 'black diamonds' as they are known around here. There used to be no less than seven collieries in the town, all now long gone. At one time the region was the largest coal producing area in Europe.

Years of continuous disappointment and shattered dreams finally came to an end on a gloriously sunny day in April, 2006. A 2-1 home win over Elgin City secured the Scottish Third Division title, our first championship for 67 years. Standing on the terracing waiting for the helicopter to arrive many grown men were reduced to tears. I couldn't help but think of my late grandfather who had played in the previous title winning season at the same ground, and how much he would have savoured the moment. It meant so little to anyone else but so much to the few of us that had travelled all over the country, dreaming about such a day.

Fans of big teams are familiar with success and complain when they haven't won a trophy for a few months. That day may well be the only time in my life that I see us lift a championship trophy, but I can say that I was there. You can keep your Celtics, Rangers and Manchester Uniteds. Their fans will never experience the emotion of that day.

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