It was Kilmarnock’s worst-ever cup result and I was there to endure it.

For Inverness Thistle fans, I suspect that the match itself has been eclipsed by fond memories of the lost ground and the loss of the club itself.

For everyone else, their greatest achievement is a largely forgotten footnote in Scottish football history.

The 1984-85 Scottish Cup draw sent Kilmarnock to Kingsmills Park to play Highland League Inverness Thistle. Although Killie were floundering around the relegation zone of the second tier, Inverness Thistle were in the lower reaches – second bottom I think - of the Highland League. As a twelve-year-old Killie fan, I don’t remember anyone expecting anything other than a good day out and a straightforward away win.

My dad took some persuasion to drive up to Inverness for the game. I suspect the fact that Inverness Thistle’s record of twenty-nine postponements for a cup tie against Falkirk a few years before would have been in his mind. Our journey north was almost halted by sleet and snow at Drumochter. Would this game even be on? Thankfully, our Morris Minor Traveller pulled up in a side street beside Kingsmills along with a good few hundred other Killie fans.

The Kilmarnock team had stayed overnight in a hotel near Culloden but falling asleep was apparently the real battle. Jim Cockburn of Killie would later recount how the band from a wedding would make this all but impossible. Nevertheless, Killie’s part-timers were cock-a-hoop ahead of kick-off, even going as far as agreeing to share out their expected win bonus among the fourteen-man squad. The board of directors at that time did not allow more than fourteen to travel, presumably to control costs.

By kick-off, Kingsmills Park was packed. Routinely, crowds were only a few hundred, but 2,500 turned up for the occasion and brought a real atmosphere. Under the shed roof was the away contingent, in fine voice. The home fans were mainly behind the goal at the turnstile end to which they would be shooting in the first half. No segregation was the norm in those days. The pitch was half-frozen but the ground itself was tidy enough. 

Killie boss Eddie Morrison shifted several players to unfamiliar positions. Our main goal threat Blair Millar was cup-tied. Kilmarnock lined up with the less-than-threatening striker John McEachran, a player whose only goal in eighteen appearances was a deflection off his rear end. Despite this, we were confident that goals would come. Killie were a shambles – and I mean a real shambles - even by mid-eighties standards. I think Thistle realised early on that this was a winnable tie. Dave Milroy prodded Thistle ahead and the home fans were galvanised.

Killie created little, although I recall Ian Bryson’s low shot cracking back off the post. The unease among the away support was growing. There was a sickening realisation that we were in real trouble, yet a refusal to believe that we could lose. Chants of, “What a load of rubbish!” rang out as the players simply looked like they wanted to be elsewhere. Defender Derrick McDicken looked to be struggling with his hamstring on the hard surface. Thistle smelt blood. Two further goals from Gordon Hay and substitute Brian Fraser ensured that they got it.