When The Facts Change…
I have to admit,that was a difficult game on Sunday. Not helped much of course when I couldn’t get a link to the game at noon and dived onto a bus to watch it in the local pub.
My thanks to everyone who texted and mailed the proper kick off time. Stars,the lot of you. Choobthatamur.
Anyway,watched it on my own till nearly the end of the game when the pub started to fill up with Liverpool fans. I’m sitting at a table which can take eight easily. Alright if we sit here? Of course.
Scottish football’s shite. Fuck off,this is my table and yer not welcome. Problem sorted. Big game supporters.
From the off,with that amazing cross from Ralston in the first minute,we controlled the match. But none of us were comfortable till the winner from Jota a whole 80 minutes later! Well,I know I wasn’t. Bricking it,I was. But that’s the problem when you’ve seen Celtic for as long as we have,and I refer you to my series of articles on The Lost Ten from about two years ago.
It matters not a jot though,as long as the players still have the belief and the desire. And Sunday proved that they do. I haven’t looked at the official stats,or how many times we hit the woodwork,but we peppered their goal. Kyogo was magnificent,giving the ball,being there for the take,climbing a ladder and jumping off it for his goal. Maeda did his Duracell bunny and was unfortunate not to get on the scoresheet.
Jota was outstanding. While the midfield and defence just did what they needed,and we got some game time into some players who will be ready for Sunday.
Meantime,just before the game,the estimable Shug had written us off as bottle merchants. In his column in the Sunday Mail,trashed us on the back of last weeks result. No attempt at honest interpretation which might have included a wee critique of Madden’s performance. Having been rather positive the week before,no,we went full monty,bottle merchants on us. I’ve got a wee question for ye,Shug. Can I be your bookie?
Thinking about just another Sunday next week,which I intend to spend in Bristol again,reminded me of a play of a similar name. A tale of redemption,I suppose,or at least realising that your path might not be the right one. I reckon most of us have seen it,and it is as powerful and graphic now as it was then. Perhaps more so,because though many of us recognised the conditions then,few can relate to them now. Thankfully.
But ye know what? You’ve still got that hun mentality,that supremacy so superbly portrayed in the play. And you’ve still got tossers like Keevins,and a refereeing cabal. And we’ve still got a rival,long dead,to put to the sword.
Win on Sunday,we won’t kill them. But it will be a start. And a bliddy good one.
Above article by BMCUWP