The wee boys grew in confidence, said they didn’t like Rangers, and the father told everyone that he knew the Callaghan brothers who were playing for Dunfermline today. He also said that in their spare time, the brothers were Celtic daft – but that was hardly a great secret. A few other Celtic fans started singing a song which had a bad word or two in it – and one of the Celtic fans shouted “Hey! Cut it oot! There’s a wuman here wi twa young laddies!” His moral stance was somewhat undermined by the fact that some other women, dressed in green, were joining in the blasphemous and obscene singing, but it was a brave effort.
Meanwhile, the mother was being relentlessly chatted up by a Celtic fan who was not unattractive but clearly past the first flush of youth. We got all the usual Glasgow dance hall chat-up patter about her hairstyle and “I wish I’d met you before he did” jabbing his thumb at the now totally relaxed and smiling father. Not only that, but “the next time we’re in Dunfermline, ah’m comin’ roon tae your hoose for a cup o’ tea.”
The precocious older boy, clearly an expert in such matters, then said that Celtic would be at East End Park on Wednesday night – providing of course, that today was not a draw. There was then a general feeling expressed that today might well be a draw “like the lest time, aw’ for anither big gate.”
The train, which had seemed to be saying “Cel-tic” repeatedly on its whistle, arrived at Mount Florida. The Dunfermline family were all wished well, the mother by no means discouraging of a wee kiss from the Celtic charmer, and the two wee boys were clearly in awe of Celtic supporters at their best, and repeated their feelings about not liking Rangers, while adding Falkirk and Raith Rovers to their list of un-favourite football teams.
It was great to walk up to Hampden Park in the dry on a fine day. No mud, no urine and your shoes unsullied. That old North Stand was showing its age, though, wasn’t it? But five shillings (no Boys Gate) was the price for admission to the Celtic end – that massive area of terracing which had seen so much action in Scottish football history and was destined to see a great deal more today.
Two things struck me about the view from the top of the Celtic End, and they were to do with what was happening away from the pitch. One was the amount of “dead body” fans who had not managed to get into the ground in a totally vertical position and had collapsed through the sheer amount of drink that they had consumed!
CONTINUED ON THE NEXT PAGE…
