It's already two years to the day since one of the worst events of our Celtic-centred lives. What happened at Myrrh Park that afternoon will serve as a constant reminder that nothing is fixed or certain in football. It cast a shadow over the Martin O'Neill era and really was the day a team died. The circumstances were heartbreaking and the joy of our hosts simply breathtaking. If ever we needed reminding of our place as perceived lepers then it was apparent throughout Scotland that day.
It is somewhat amazing then that Celtic have sauntered to the last two championships whilst rebuilding a team. On Sunday we finished the league campaign a dozen points clear of the darnel without kicking a domestic ball in earnest in 2007. Our eyes are now on the Scottish Cup. No other side has anywhere near our history of success and drama in the competition.
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Like a fitful sleep it comes and goes increasing and decreasing in focus and the depth of cut it left.
So many ifs and buts -
The linesman at Hearts, the faster fitter Hibs team at Celtic park, Craig bellamy's hammy tweaking in the Ibrox game, the sad, sore heavy legs of so many in the hoops.
The inevitablility of it all when we started trying to defend a 1-0 lead and how little time we had left when thast lead was scuppered.
And the immediate aftermath - local 'social clubs' celebrating as if a war had been won. So many car horns echoing through Lanarkshire and non-football minded neighbours, decked out in their Bowling whites and greys, being poured through the front door of their houses on my street.
And a descent into drunkeness (Observed by a friend's cousin who was a Motherwell supporter) for me that made the cold light of morning all the more painful and horrid.
The last two seasons capitulation by Rangers (setting staggeringly poor new standards for 'the peepul' to try and comprehend) has went some of the way to make up for that day, but only some of the way.
I remember taking a ribbing from some gers fans I know - I said - 'What do you expect me to do? Stop supporting my team?'
No Chance!
WG -
Thanks for reminding us, pal! I still remember the look on my mates face as our soon-to-be striker knocked the stuffing out of us. I am certain that my gub was showing the same look of disbelief as his.
But, onwards and upwards, the quest for silverware has one more day to go for us in this season.
We must now look to the future. Imagine the damage we can do to our rivals if we can get close to Gordon Strachan's football vision? I am really looking forward to next season and some more quality signings. How nice will it be to see the Scotts knocking in the goals against the darnel?
Curly
Ulysses/Curly -
thanks for your contributions.
I still think Raith Rovers was worse.
I don't know if I've conditioned myself to do so in order to minimise any damage the mothers could do us.
I put it down to not having won a trophy in over five years and then being beaten by a lower division team at Megiddo. For me and Tommy Burns (who told me so) we bottomed out that day.
It annoys me, though, that we have been put in a position when we can compare nightmares and argue about what was the worse.
When we won the Scottish Cup after Black Sunday it was a totally surreal funereal experience. There was something resembling resurrection but the previous week's loss was irreconcilable with a rain-drenched gray nothingness.
However the win added to our Scottish Cup record which I hope will be extended further in a few days.
We cannot change the team we support - unlike the mothers and darnelists who continually juggle their rainbow coalition.
WG The Raith game was a bittersweet occassion for me. Watching my favourite player miss the penalty totally gutted me but it was also the last game my father and I attended together so when I think of it I think back to all of the hundreds of great times we travelled to games together.
Ironically he died on the day of the maestro's testimonial so I never got to go to that game. But with football comes humour when i phoned my mates to tell them of his passing they passed on their condolences and the nmext question was the inevitable so you wont be using your ticket then?
3 of my worst in not any order were the day the little shite scored in the last minute at the bigotdome, Seville and the night the mothers beat us in the semi at hampden on their run to the cup.
GL2 -
ta for sharing that with me. I think the last game I was at with my dad (who is still living) was the UEFA Cup Final. Sadly my brother, Ged, who was also with me in Seville, is no longer here.
We miss them.
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