Cometh the day! It’s what we all were thinking as we prepared ourselves for this momentous day, and who would the man be on this day, would it be McCann or Dobbie or would Sean O’Connor pop up with the goods? The excitement was unbearable (ok mibbe no, but it was pretty good for Cup Final Day). This was never going to be the foregone conclusion, Queens were up against a side which was stuttering and stumbling, rocked from the midweek events, they were punch-drunk and susceptible to the killer punch! Could Queens deliver it. It was going to be a cracker.
Being Cup Final day, we had to get there early and soak up the atmosphere. It was decided, that we should get to Hampden at about 1.00pm, head to The Church on the Hill for a pint and then take a nice walk in the sun to the ground. Nice to see the fans mixing in the pub beer garden, and nice to see that the management had upped the prices just to add to the “special” occasion. Duly watered, we headed to Hampden, and I must say it was at this point that I began to feel slightly underdressed for the day in my burgundy Morrissey T shirt and jeans. Blue was to be the colour of choice for most, however some, like me chose to stray from tradition and wore various shades of Orange and some even wore flags from other countries! “Individualists like myself” i thought, then I saw a guy with another Morrissey T shirt, damn. And just when I thought I had seen everything, like a vision in Red White and Blue he appeared, hand in hand with what I assume was his wife – cause his girlfriend would have never walked hand in hand with him like that – strode Wild “Billy” Hickok. A Union Flag Stetson, A long plastic Union Flag trench coat, Union Flag trousers and Blue shoes. His wife, resplendent in white and orange, sparkled in the sunshine as her red, white and blue hair glitter, dazzled like a disco glitter-ball. And I just pictured the moment, as they met in the hall, ready to leave the house for the big game, they looked each other up and down and thought “We look fantastic!”. And off they went to join up with the rest of the “people”.
As it was, they blended in a lot better than I did!
So, we took our seats on beautiful day, Me, Arlene, Irene, Lewis and Hawkster. Irene’s first football match at Hampden as it happens. Been to a few gigs she said, as if that counted. But I am sure she wasn’t alone. Sitting looking through the crowd, all I could see was families with broad smiles, and that “Day out” look in their eyes. They were happy to be here and nervous about their team, but nonetheless, they were here for a memorable day that would live long in the memory whatever the outcome. Then I looked around and above me, and I saw the faces I recognised from a Peter Howson print I have in my living room. They were here for one thing only. Victory celebrations. And suddenly I felt really glad to be sitting where I was.
And so to the game. In the first half, I though, if they could hold out for 20 minutes, then a demolition job may not be on the cards. And, for most of the first half, although they didn’t play too well, Queens held their own, and should have had a penalty for a push in the box, but as I am becoming too aware, when the Old Firm are in town, refs can often bottle it. A dubious free kick well taken and a calamity in defence saw Queens going in at half time 2-0 down (and out as all but the diehards thought). During the first half, Queens won a corner and I turned to Hawkster and said ” Big Jim’s going up for it”. “He never scores with his head” Hawky offerred with some authority. And he didn’t. Well not on that occasion!
Second half, and with the memories of missing 4 goals in the semi, I sat on my backside right through half time to catch the start of the game. Arlene, Irene and Hawky went for supplies, and I was treated to some wonderful tunes from the support to my left. Some about guarding some walls somewhere which were obviously important and required guarding, and some about nobody liking them but it didn’t really bother them as they were “Fenian Bastards” whatever that is. The Queens fans, did their best to silence them with their rattle shaking and cries of Queens, but they were not for being silenced. Rule Britannia and one about being born under a Union Jack (I thought it was a Union Flag unless you flew it on a ship??) added to the colourful medley. And no sooner had the singing started, it stopped. The ref blew his whistle and off we went again.
Just hold out for 15 minutes guys and this might not be a humping! Hold out!, no intention of holding out. A great ball cut across the penalty area struck Tosh cleanly between his legs and fell over the line. Absolute mayhem, absolute bedlam. I leaped about like a madman, grabbed everyone around me, shouted and screamed with everyone else. Then Hawky points to the row in front of us which had four or five empty seats. “That’s where Tosh’s family were sittin” he says. Right on cue, shuffling along the aisle are the girls. They’d missed the goal! Now I know how that feels, but to miss your mans first ever goal in a cup final at Hampden, now that is just a bloody shame.
Just when I’m soaking up the smiling faces and listening to the cries of “Queens”, a high ball goes into the box, and, just like the 83 yarder at Palmerston, the action goes to slow motion. And the sound has gone. The ball arcs in the air and drops slowly, it’s deep, maybe too deep, it’s gonny clear everyone. Then, the shiny dome of Big Jim appears above everybody and makes perfect contact with the ball, immediately redirecting it towards the goal. It arcs and curls again and lands perfectly in the back of the net……
FULL VOLUME!
Never seen anything like it! I’m not sure if i cried first or screamed. I only know that when the dust settled some minutes later, I was watching the game through blurred vision. I actually felt for these supporters. Nobody believed it, nobody in their wildest dreams would have imagined them coming back like that. I felt, in one short instance, that I was one of them. I was happy for them. I shared the moment and felt privileged again to be among them. Then Warren says “He never scores with his head!” and I crease myself laughing.
Maybe they scored too early. Maybe it wasn’t to be. No matter, the lads could not be criticised for their effort. And, I hope that when they look back at it in years to come, they will have no regrets, no “what ifs”, because they shouldn’t. They made everybody proud, they almost made it. They pegged them back after looking down and out, and they gave their supporters (and me) something to shout about on Cup Final day.
If ever I have learned a lesson, I learned it today. This was not about win at all costs. This was about doing the best you can and being proud. This is a lesson for all of us. This was a day for words like underdogs, bravery, heroics, pride and passion, but it was also about humility and a sense of belief. I hope I learn from it.
And as the surprisingly muted celebrations began by the other half of Hampden, we filed out. As the faint familiar songs began inside the stadium, I stood on the steps outside in the sunshine, I looked at the Blue and White dispersing into Mike McCurry Car Park, and I felt sad that it was over, I also felt sad that it was the first game where I took sides, this wasn’t what it was about, the Cup Trail. A rethink for next years rules methinks.
And in amongst the familiar songs of division and triumphalism we hear too often from both sides of the Old Firm, an old couple walk past resplendent in Blue and White, heading for the long bus journey home and the old girl says to her husband in a beautiful high pitched Dumfries accent, “At Least it was a lovely day!”
A lovely day indeed. Well done Queens fans you brought the true spirit back to our game, if for only one day.
Till next year.
Fiery Jack
