‘Normal table in the Beardsmore, sir?’ ‘Why, yes. And we’ll take two of your vintage Irish stouts and excellent beef-based breakfasts, my good man’. I haven’t even sat down and I hear a voice ‘Matt Corr?’
Embarassingly, I’m struggling to place the face until the guy offers his name. I don’t feel so bad when I realise that I haven’t seen him in maybe forty years, as a member of the Cairn CSC around 1980.
I’m really chuffed that he recognises me and tells me that I haven’t changed, until I realise that would make me Springburn’s first bald teenager. Bummer. I’m going with the version that he recognised me from Twitter, where we have exchanged a few messages.
It’s lovely to see him. His sister married my pal, a guy who I started school with and had kept touch with through the teenage years and marriages until the kids came along, from whence we would only meet occasionally. Nevertheless, it was a huge shock to pick up a message as we left Old Trafford after the Roy Keane Testimonial, telling me he had passed away. He was only 45. I hadn’t even known he was ill. Turns out, neither did he. RIP Davie.
It is as well we have had a few drinks and a hot roll. We are travelling with Enter airlines and it would appear the Polish cabin staff have vastly underestimated the Troops’ capacity for purchasing alcohol. We are seated in row 14 and are taking bets as to how far up the aircraft the poor steward will manage before we land, as he ticks off each sale on a five-bar gate. No, I don’t know either. In any case, he is still trying to reach us when the pilot announces landing positions, as some of the passengers complete a dry flight they perhaps had not envisaged, and no mysterious zlotys will appear on my next Visa bill.
The Old Irish Pub
The bus drops us off at the hotel and Iain Hynds has again done us proud. The Hotel Tivoli is right on the harbour and is perfect. Modern, clean and spacious. Quick wash and change, then it’s time to head into town for lunch and a few beers. As usual, @timsontour we do it in the other order, checking out The Old Irish Pub on Vesterbrogade, off the brilliantly named Hans Christian Andersen’s Boulevard.
It is certainly a fairytale for those of a Hoops persuasion, located in a square block which also includes The Scottish Pub, Rosie McGee’s, The Old English Pub and The Shamrock. That’s more like it, Carlsberg.
One thing has remained the same in Copenhagen since the previous trip in December 2006, the rain. It hasn’t stopped since we landed and now provides a good excuse to head into The Old Irish Pub, so we can take stock. Gather our thoughts. You know the drill.
Inside, it feels like a Celtic version of the World Darts Finals you see on television at the new year. The place is massive and the tables are packed with Celtic supporters as far as the eye can see. We head all the way down to the front and grab a spot at the bar, just as a guy walks on stage with a guitar, to his biggest-ever audience. Result.
Within minutes, the party’s in full swing, with one or two Irish tunes. Then he moves across the water for a Gerry Cinnamon tribute, which goes down a storm. Lunch is cancelled. The Hoops are loving it and we’re having a chuckle as the set progresses and it becomes apparent that he doesn’t know the words! Michael wasn’t taken away, apparently, as Trevelyan’s Quorn was found and now sells like hot er…quorn, in the new Celtic Park vegan stall (copyright The Shamrock). And Grace and Joe spent many happy years as a married couple. Well, in the land of fairytales, I think they all earned a happy ending.
After a few welcome Guinnesses, we’re feeling brave enough to face the weather and head for lunch. First sight we see outside the pub gives us another laugh. A lone Celt is walking in front of us with a combo of Celtic tracksuit top, kilt, hooped socks and red trainers. Superb. We head around the block and find a nice restaurant, Casa Lola, and it’s a good choice. Steak and Spanish beers and life is good again. Across the road from the restaurant is The Shamrock Inn, which allows us to break the journey of a few hundred metres with another couple of pints and a chat with some Celtic supporters there.
Rosie McGee’s
Next stop is Rosie McGee’s, as master tacticians Roy and I plot the defeat of FC Copenhagen with some out-of-the-box thinking in terms of team selection, as well as a long overdue catch-up and several jars.
