Partick Thistle: 100% Football, 100% Passion, it proclaims.

Really? Because today we were playing at barely 50%. And perhaps if the board spent more time finding investment and giving McCall a playing squad deeper than just 17 names, and less thinking up ever-more ridiculously stupid ways to promote the club, we'd not be in the mess we're in.

Latest to be told he can leave is veteran hitman Mark Roberts.

Now, Marko's never been the most prolific of forwards, but he's been a reliable and faithful servant to the Jags since being signed during the reign of the Great Satan himself a few years back.

He's weighed in with more than a few crucial goals here and there during his spell at Firhill. And god knows what we need at the moment is goals.

In case you missed it, Ian McCall revealed the club's financial position is far more precarious than was previously thought, even by the doomsayers around these parts.

In front of a pathetically small crowd - and one largely populated by the right kind of Jag, too - we succumbed, as we always did, to a side with a lethal edge in front of goal.

Juniors hitman Kris Doolan's joined us on an 18-month deal. Chris Turner and Ryan McStay have been told they can go - and indeed, Turner's been released on a free after displaying nothing during his spell at Firhill (and far less than he displayed on his mobile phone...)

Despite coming in at 5'10", Doolan's reportedly decent in the air, which is a godsend at the moment given the diminutive nature of the Firhill strike force. But with both Gray and Lennon's loan deals set to expire this month - and hopefully neither being kept on - someone who can compliment Bucky Buchananananan and provide a bit of a threat in the box is more than welcome.

But there's other strengthening work required - and that could prove more problematic.

My track record with the derby matches has been pretty shonky since I moved back up north - unlike Thistle's, which has been pretty damn spectacular.

We've now avoided defeat, or enjoyed a comfortable gubbing of the Broadwood Big Issue sellers, for seven games on the spin - two whole years of lording it over them.

But I've not seen us win at Broadwood. Never. I've either not been able to make it (which is invariably when we win) or we've been spanked like Max Mosley after a particularly enjoyable evening of grown up entertainment.

So I can only apologise. Although, after the last few weeks, I'm sure you can guess the general tone of the posts that got away.

Painfully, my old man was up for the holidays and came to see his first game since the summer, the diabolically bad performance against Ross County on the 27th.

Merry Christmas, eh?

Not good enough, McCall. Sort it out.

But I read this piece on the Times' website today and my blood boiled hot enough to melt permafrost.

Now, I know I congratulated the Queens support last weekend for bringing the noise with them, but for an official representative of the club to criticise its fans, on the back of a losing streak the width of the river Kelvin, shows everything that remains wrong about the hierarchy at the club.

That said, the perfect response came firing back at said moaner yesterday, as the Clyde fans - in good voice early on - found themselves outsung by Section 7. The childrens end. Yes, the sight of our young support outsqueeking the Gypsie hoards in the Viagra stand only adds to a perfect day.

Jamie McQuilken take a bow.