Far away from such theological and celestial speculations, more concerned with the mundane and the pressing, we on the East Terracing made a big mistake. We decided to go to the toilet. Quite a few men did not bother about such niceties, and simply did the necessary where they were, but we were of a decent family and made our way to the none too hygienic toilets.
One had to climb the huge terracing and descend the steps at the back to try to get there. It was a crush, but we managed it. The problem, however, was then that we could not get back in. It would remind the learned of Virgil’s Aeneid, when Aeneas was told that there was no problem getting down to the Underworld. The problem was getting back! “Hic labor, hoc opus est!” We certainly could not get back to our old places and were condemned to watch the second half from the top of the terracing where heads and other things got in our way.
It was not entirely without its advantages. One certainly got a fine panoramic view of the distant proceedings, both of the ground and the surrounding streets, and the amount of the “out of the game” drunks still lying on the banking. The allotment gardener was still there with a spade and a wheelbarrow, and once again, I envied him. No-one was bothering him; he was not bothering anyone, although he cannot but have been aware of the passion, the drama and the noise going on not all that far away from him. Maybe he had a transistor radio with him.
But we still had the problem of seeing the game. Celtic equalised through Bertie Auld (who else?) after a fine one-two with Bobby Lennox, but our view of it was obscured by heads. We came out of the terracing and walked along the path at the back before we eventually managed to get a reasonable view of the action holding on to the post numbered “25” at the very back of the terracing.
Beside us stood a black man – not all that usual in 1965 Glasgow – a refined soft-spoken gentleman, and a few youngsters, and we actually had a good view once the crowd settled down. We saw Fallon’s great save from Alex Edwards, which seemed to have got behind him, and we saw Clark getting something stuck up his nose after a facial knock, and we saw the battle raging.
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