As the old saying goes, the harder you work, the luckier you get.

That is unless a faceless linesman flags for a penalty in a warped decision that can only be classed as incompetent.

As we outworked supposed automatic challengers, an ‘assistant referee’ decided to consign 87 minutes of sweat to the dustbin as he waved his flag like a jean creaming teenager at a Girls Aloud concert.

Whether he caught his erection while shaking away on the touchline is unsure, but it’s pretty certain he’ll need a clean pair of pants once he’s been finished off by the fourth official tonight.

Yet the overriding perversity of all will be Solbakken getting fined for banging on the door and daring to ask what the f**k has just gone on in a professional arena.

Yes, we are light on quality on the pitch with the airwaves painting a familiar picture of poor quality or decision making when it mattered most.

So it seems all the more unfair when honest endeavour from a unified squad of players is undermined in such a corrupt fashion.

Their keeper was busier than ours, we had more efforts on goal and even grazed the post through a Doyle header.

But just as the pathetic home attendance dwindled further when their bang average side continued to misfire on 87 minutes, the outcome of the game was decided by a giddy little linesman who can read all about himself tomorrow morning.

For the poor 600 souls who travelled a 400 mile, 9 hour round trip to be there today, you have all my thoughts and sympathy.

At least you’ll still have your dignity when you finally get home.