Edinburgh. Saturday morning. No hangover, I feel great (Sunday morning was not so good however and I was, and still am, in the bad books). Anyway, I digress, that is a story for another time. The task in hand was the impending match against Celtic.
Today I am fortunate enough to have complimentary tickets for the game (courtesy of Jeff who works for Nike, cheers Jeff). The bad news they are in the Celtic end and i'm far from enamoured at the prospect of sitting amongst the hordes of one half of the 'great unwashed'.
Still, it's going to be Jimmy's last game in charge right? Regardless, we hop on a train at Waverly and make our way to the city of doom. It's a peculiar place Glasgow. Totally different to Edinburgh, and not in a good way I find. Once in Glasgow I always feel a little on edge, there is always something a bit nasty just bubbling under the surface.
We reach our fabled destination and head for a bite to eat in Waxy 'O Connors, which I must say was excellent. A quick beer later and some Merseyside action, we hop on a bus out to the tattie bowl. Now sure, some football clubs have a fraction of undesirables in their midst, but the Glasgow teams are littered with some of the most strange looking people on the planet.
The further towards Parkhead we venture, the more shanty town the scenery becomes. The boarded up bars, unwelcoming, fearful of having their non-existant windows panned in. The shell suits, the lack of dental hygiene, the sunken white faces, the weird close-together eyes, that irritating accent.
Not to mention the fact the bus was like a sauna. We arrive at our destination eventually and weave through the mass of sellic fans and into the Jock Stein stand. Fair play to Nike, we have nice padded seats in the very back row of the lower deck. I make the observation that Celtic Park is a lot nicer than the last time I was here (it was still all standing then), although it's fair to say it's still a shitehole.
And the atmosphere, let me tell you... there was.... nothing. Dead. Dull. The famous Celtic fans. Outsung the entire match by the small band of Dons fans who were a credit to us. With a plethora of flags, smoke and songs, we lit the otherwise dour stadium up. I felt so envious to have to sit and keep my mouth shut throughout the entire game.
The game itself? What can I say, well and truly robbed. As usual. The same old story. The first half was a non-event really, the Dons were passing the ball around well and the goal lost was a total shambles defensively (Foster and Kerr, oh dear). And it's not as if we weren't creating chances, Lee Miller in particular was giving the Celtic defence a torrid time.
The second half kicked off, Seve lost to injury and Mulgrew on in his place. Again, some excellent passing and movement from the Dons, highlighted by our equalising goal, which was an absolute cracker. Mulgrew finished it at the back post, volleying it through Boruc legs from a Lee Miller flick on. To say I was delighted would be an understatement, a totally different kind of celebration though, sitting there smiling to myself and listening to the unwashed volley out all sorts of abuse.
Our second goal was excellent too. Lee Miller (yet again) wins a free kick 30 yards out and up steps Mulgrew again to pop it in via the post. He races over to the Dons fans in celebration and all is good in the world (for a few glorious minutes anyway).
What is it about Celtic? We always lose late goals, yet whenever we take the lead we feel it's time to sit back and defend on our 6 yard line instead of continuing to play the same attractive 1 touch stuff. Two late goals (as usual) and the obligatory Mackie sitter missed and it's game over. Sadly, Mulgrew should have simply booted the ball out for the eventual Celtic winner, but decided to try and dribble round everyone. Final Score, Celtic 3 - 2 Aberdeen. Gutted.
I was furious when that 3rd goal went in, my phone almost getting thrown off the wall in fury on the way out of the stadium, the usual grey Glasgow rain lashing down to worsen my mood. Football, why do I bother.......
On reflection, I thought we were desperately unlucky and felt sorry for the players (and even Jimmy). I thought Mair, Duff and Miller were excellent. Kerr also had his best game in a Dons shirt so far. The sad fact however, is if we don't start picking up results soon then there is only one outcome. But surely, if we play like that against Hibs on Saturday, we'll hammer them.
Won't we.....?
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