FOOTBALL CAN STILL BE A FORCE FOR GOOD

Plucky Nairn County are a shining light to all in Scottish football amid these dark days

AT FIVE minutes to three before a home game, Nairn County’s Station Park vibrates to the vocal gymnastics of Luciano

Pavarotti’s Nessun Dorma.

The strains of the great tenor offer a burst of culture to supporters, employees at the train station next door and patients at the Town and County Hospital 70 yards away. And the suspension of professional football in the midst of worldwide pandemic seems a poor reason to rob the good people of Nairn of their operatics.

‘I haven’t told the chairman this yet,’ club secretary Ian Finlayson tells Sportsmail, ‘but I am going to play Nessun Dorma over the club tannoy every Saturday afternoon at three until we are back playing in the Highland League again.

‘We normally play it as part of our pre-match track list and I’ve already had fans saying to me: “I don’t know what I’ll do without my Nessun Dorma…”

‘The stadium is beside the station and the hospital. If we can bring comfort to people in these difficult times, then we will start repaying our debt to the town of Nairn.’

The debt in question stems back to the events of 2016. The club people walking the West Highland Way. The local fish and chip shop had a “Fish and Hits Day” where local bands played in the High Street and they sold fish and chips and donated the proceeds.

‘That’s what I mean by “the community saved us”. And we must remember that. It’s payback time.’

Payback began with a statement on the club website on Tuesday night announcing plans to pay loyal supplier invoices early. County will also send directors, management and players out into the community on a Saturday afternoon to help the town’s 10,000 residents unable to walk their dogs or shop for food during self isolation.

A civil servant with Nairn County in the blood, Finlayson struck on the idea during a conversation with chairman Donald Matheson on Tuesday afternoon. Things quickly snowballed from there. By yesterday afternoon, Nairn County were trending on social media.

‘I was sitting talking to the chairman reflecting on the fact that committee members and players had nothing to do on a Saturday now,’ says Finlayson.

‘And we said: “Why don’t we ask if people need shopping done and go and get them?”

‘Initially it was just going to be me and the chairman.

‘But the players heard about it and we now have a situation where the new Nairn County training regime will be running around getting the town’s shopping.

‘Most of the players came back and said they were up for doing it for folk self-isolating who can’t get out to buy stuff or walk the dog.’

That a Highland League side has any money stored away at all is the unusual by-product of some old-fashioned housekeeping initiated by club treasurer Shona Devine after the meltdown of 2016.

‘We literally call it our rainy-day fund,’ adds Finlayson.

‘Shona said right at the outset that any time we got a transfer fee in, or any time we got a sponsor in, we would put a small percentage into the fund.

‘Look, in football everybody wants to buy fantastic players and have a great team and that costs money.

‘But we were passionate about the need to put a little away when we could because we knew the bad times would come. And, sure enough, here they are.

‘When the Highland League was postponed last week and the full scale of the crisis facing people became apparent, we took a look at the figures as a community and decided we were able to do this.

‘We don’t have a lot of money, please don’t give people the impression we do.

‘But we have enough to go to the businesses who helped us when we needed it and say: “Can we pay for the first couple of months of next season now?”.’

In the dog-eat-dog world of Scottish football, Nairn County’s community spirit is unusual.

When a club from the SPFL engages with the local community, it usually involves asking for money rather than offering some to others.

The SFA and SPFL group set up to co-ordinate a response to coronavirus are currently seeking a way to help clubs with no gate money coming in by advancing funds from the distribution prize pot.

Until that happens, clubs lucky enough to have one will lean heavily on benefactors or soft loans from local businessman directors to see them through.

In disapproving tones, Finlayson adds: ‘At the moment, you can’t have clubs saying to the community: “Please give us a money”.

‘People are losing their jobs. They are in danger of losing businesses they have built up for years.

‘How can a local football club go to a business and ask the owner for help when he might have a relative in hospital?

‘My own sister is in self-isolation at the moment.

‘Do we go to these people and say: “Please give us some money to tide us over?”

‘No, we don’t. There are more important things going on and when you talk about a community club, this is kind of what it’s about. It’s about being a proper part of your community. It’s not just taking, it’s giving as well.’

In central Scotland, community spirit usually adopts a religious hue. Definitions of sporting integrity depend on whether a supporter peers through green spectacles or blue. At a time when bickering over football seems a bit off, Nairn County see things slightly differently.

Finlayson says: ‘When we had our troubles five years ago, the first phone call I had was from the secretary of Inverness Clachnacuddin asking: “What can we do?”

‘Similarly, Clach had a fire three months ago where their changing rooms burned down.

‘I was on the phone to them and so was every other club in the Highlands, asking: “What can we do? Can we give you shirts or balls?”

‘Football clubs have a reputation for pursuing self-interest in Scottish football.

‘But, at this level, so much good goes on and that’s what community clubs should be about.

‘Nairn County were formed in 1914 but didn’t kick a ball until 1919 because of the First World War.

‘We know better than most clubs that some things are more important than football.’