On The Road Special: Why Dumbarton’s plight should matter to everyone with football in their soul, writes Hugh MacDonald

So who cares? And why does it affect those who have a volatile relationship with Dumbarton, if at all?

The response to the consequences of Dumbarton FC’s administration tells us a lot about modern football, the complexity of business and, most importantly, the great value of a sport to the community.

Those who put in a few cents to help Dumbarton survive do so not just because it could happen to their club, but because the Sons are part of a wider family. It’s a sentimental idea, but true nonetheless.

Scottish football at the lower levels entered a brief but dramatic freeze on Saturday. On the Road was thus pushed into a lay-by, with Berwick and then Alloa becoming no-go areas.

Along the highway, along the road to Loch Lomond, Dumbarton Stadium stood unaffected by the weather in the shadow of the Rock. There was no home game on the program on Saturday, but the stadium, quiet and challenging, still represents something. You could summarize it as survival.

The story of Dumbarton and the government now involves the police, so going into details is tread lightly, but there is a lot that touches the soul of every fan. There is a slight trepidation in Scotland when such spiritual terms are used in connection with football.

The club is now fighting for its survival after coming into administration last week

The Dumbarton fans have rallied together and raised money to help the club

The roundball game has been vilified or ignored by generations of politicians and artistic activists. It is considered dirty, even violent and antisocial. The game that means so much to so many in this country has never been properly celebrated in music or literature.

The great Scottish football novel has the shortest shortlist, with Robin Jenkins’ The Thistle and the Grail routinely topping the list. But where is the big football opera? Where are the beautiful oil paintings of football scenes and personalities?

This rumination may provoke sly smiles and even mockery from some, but there is certainly a gap between the way the game reaches a significant portion of the population and its representation in wider society.

This all contributes to a serious and dangerous attitude towards football. It is clearly reflected in the attitude of the political classes.

Football is called to Holyrood or Parliament in the way a headmaster beckons a troublesome student. Let’s have a Rammies summit during a Celtic vs. Rangers match. Let’s not let those oiks drink during a match. Let us all participate in performative, lazy, and ultimately useless rhetoric. Make them gasp at the difference in the attitude of officiating a football match compared to that of a rugby international.

However, the truth remains elusive for many in positions of power. These big clubs contribute enormously to the economy of a city. For example, how much will go through the coffers of transport companies, hoteliers, publicans and restaurant owners if 60,000 people converge on Celtic Park on Wednesday?

The importance of football is, paradoxically, revealed at the lowest levels in terms of finances and fan engagement. This is where On the Road takes its Saturday drink. It is distilled, powerful and the water of life.

Dumbarton Stadium has been the chosen watering hole a few times in recent seasons. One visit, of course, was for the 150th anniversary celebration in 2022. Club historian Jim McAllister told me the origin story.

In January, Dumbarton hosted Rangers in the cup, but there were warning signs even then

‘On December 21, 1872, some devious players from the city went to watch Queen’s Park v Vale of Leven at Crosshill in Glasgow. It may have been in the first Hampden, or it may not have been.

‘What we do know is that they were impressed by what they saw and the next day they had a meeting and decided to form a football club. The next day they appointed three office bearers, so the club was formed and on the 28th Dumbarton played its first match.’

Within twenty years the first Scottish League titles were won by Dumbarton. They shared the first (1891) with Rangers and took the second (1892) alone.

“We have something to hold on to,” McAllister says. ‘Only six Scottish clubs have won more than one (top division) title in 130 years of Scottish football. Dumbarton is one of them.’

For those who like to launch the informal quiz in a pub, the other five are Rangers, Celtic, Hibernian, Hearts and Aberdeen.

So the historical significance of the Sons is solid. Those of us of a certain age can reinforce that with memories of Boghead, the story of signing Johan Cruyff and the chilling glimpses of Roy McCormack, from 1966 to 1976, treating the center halves as if they were black bags dumped in bins had to be. a chilling liveliness.

But another visit to Dumbarton, in the time of Covid, revealed its true value. The date was also 2022, but it was January 2 and one of those occasions where you could only gain entry to a property if you had ID and a vaccination certificate, passed a temperature test and then rolled a double six.

These barriers were overcome with some ease by the likes of Tom Elliott and Paddy Reilly, who came to the ground with the results of their own lateral flow tests. They are men of a certain age. Both had watched the Sons for decades. One suspects that an outbreak of bubonic plague would not have given them pause.

There may be dark clouds hanging over our heads, but Dumbarton fans will fight for their club

They were individuals, of course, but representative of a broader trend in Scottish football. It is a tribe that meets in the hundreds at Hurlford, in the dozens at Easterhouse FA or in the tens of thousands in the Premier League.

Football is part of their lives and an integral part of their being. This takes many forms, but is most inspiring when linked to community, now a buzzword but always a powerful force.

This is where clubs, many of which are in the heart of poverty, offer message bags, free libraries, drop-in facilities for hot meals or even prescription delivery. In fact, they are also just a place to go.

From Fraserburgh to Gretna, and most places in between, you’ll find the fan for whom Saturday at a match is the highlight of the week when it comes to connecting with others.

One of them was David Dickie of Irvine Meadow, who spoke to me a year ago, when he was in his late eighties. “Come over here, meet some friends and have a drink,” he said simply.

It is the most succinct statement of the importance of the game in Scotland. That is why the events of Dumbarton are important to those of us who do not support the club but watch anxiously on the sidelines.

The Dumbarton situation has its own peculiarities in terms of land deals, but most clubs in Scotland are primarily aiming to survive. Survival is the word most heard when officials are asked what their ambitions are for the coming season.

This is particularly true in the lower reaches of the SPFL, where banishment from the league results in a place in the Lowland League with little prospect of a return to the main stage. It has been the fate of the likes of East Stirlingshire, Albion Rovers, Cowdenbeath, Gretna and Berwick Rangers.

Its gaping jaws are ready to consume other victims. Of course, Dumbarton isn’t quite there yet. But they are now favorites to play in League 2 next season, with the trap door causing lingering anxiety among participants.

So Dumbarton supporters are in pain. That’s why so many fans from other clubs support us. We feel just a little bit of that pain, accepting that it could be us and knowing that it would matter terribly.