...............WHILST WATCHING THE HIBEES WITH UNCLE SAM.
[This article appears in Mass Hibsteria 110 - On sale from street corners on Sunday prior to the Rangers match] Subscriptions still available, contact for details]
I'd like to start off by saying that I'm sure there were people behind the scenes that made the following possible for which I'm eternally grateful:
I received an email (amongst the many that I receive on a daily basis) which put a smile on my face. Being in San Diego has its advantages, one of which is that it's a highly desirable destination for those who travel to America. Because of this, I've had the chance to meet Hibby's from around the world, passing through, on their way to somewhere else. My family, Sally, Sean & Heather are no longer phased by the fact that people from the world over have an interest in stopping by to say hello.
The email that I received went something like this:
Will you be making any arrangements to watch the Hibs v Celtic game this weekend in San Diego?
The email was from someone who's name I didn't recognize, a C. McNeill.
My first thought was that another Hibby was travelling and had been given my name as someone to look up when in this neck of the woods.
I replied by saying that I didn't have any plans and I wasn't sure if the game was being shown anywhere in the vicinity.
The reply I received the same day announced that indeed the game was being shown at a place called the Blarney Stone Pub and someone was travelling and would be interested in meeting up to see the game, could I provide my contact info.
I duly replied with my contact info and said that I'd be happy to meet the travelling Hibby and watch the game with them.
The following day, an email arrived from C. McNeill, which absolutely floored me:
Sir Tom Farmer is in the San Diego area and my contact info had been forwarded and I could expect a call to arrange to meet!!!!!
Now forgive me for being a little suspicious at this point, how would you feel?
I called my best mate Mike Burns:
"Mike, some guy called C. McNeill is emailing me to say that STF is going to call me and wants to watch the game with me on Sunday."
"Oh aye, that'll be Colin."
"Who?"
"Colin McNeill from the Hibs, he's doing a great job."
"Mike, hang on a minute, how do we know it's your Colin McNeill?"
"Check the email address"
I felt a little stupid at this point, but as they say, sometimes when you're in the middle of the forest chopping trees down, you can't see the tops of the trees.
"Mike the email address is from Hibernian F.C.!!"
"Well there you go then"
"BLOODY HELL!!!"
Saturday morning, 9:30am:
Sally hands me the phone, "It's for you John."
"Hello"
"Aye, hello John it's Tom Farmer here, how are you?"
"F,f,f,fine....Tom?"
"So you can come and watch the game tomorrow then?"
"I, I,I,I'de be happy to......Tom"
I honestly don't remember too much more of the conversation, my heart was pounding and my mouth was dry and all I could think of was Mike Burns, Pat Stanton and Easter Road. I hung up the phone and sat, mouth wide open in total bewilderment at what had just happened and what had been planned for the following day.
Meet the owner of Hibs at the Blarney Stone Pub, in San Diego at 6am to watch the Hibees play the Soapdodgers at ER.
I looked at Sally who looked black affronted.
"What?"
"I can't believe you were calling him Tom." "You could at least have called him Mr. Farmer."
"Sally, he just sounds like a normal guy that you'd talk to at the foot of the walk."
"Humph."
"Would you like to go with me tomorrow?"
At this point Sally smiles and all is well in the world again. Whew!
Now it's about 2pm Saturday afternoon and I get a call on my cell phone from a strange number:
"Hello John, it's Colin McNeill here."
"Hello Colin, nice to hear the voice behind the emails."
"John, we've got a small problem and wondered if you could help us out?"
"Sure, if it can be done consider it done."
"We sent a small package of Hibs memento's for STF to hand out at the game tomorrow. Apparently, this is where the local Celtic guys hang out and STF thought he would like the pub to have something from Hibs." "The package has been misplaced by the freight company and we can't get it until Monday." "I let STF know and he said that he understood, I could hear the disappointment in his voice though."
"That's too bad, how can I help?"
"If you have anything that you could give to STF to present to the pub tomorrow, nothing sentimental, that would be great. We'd be happy to replace whatever you can come up with."
"Colin, I'll take care of it, I don't know how but I won't let you down."
"Cheers John. Let me know how it goes."
"No problem Colin."
Okay, it's after 2pm on Saturday and I need something by 6am tomorrow...
My brain is racing. Let me go through to my closet and see what scarves and tops I have and maybe I'll be inspired.
As I was walking to the other end of the house I had a vision, swear to Paddy a vision. I saw a Hibs top in a frame hanging on the wall of the pub.
I have several tops spanning the last few years, this would be a tough choice as I was trying to aim for the day when the kids are off to college and I can requisition one of the rooms to turn in to my Hibees shrine.
Then it dawned on me. Why one of MY tops. Last time I was home, I bought tops for everyone and I was the only one who wore it. I'll get one of the other tops.
I'm getting a little excited now and then the next wave of brilliance hit:
It's one thing to give a top, but if you don't know or appreciate the story behind the top then it's just another top. I jumped onto the Internet, logged onto the official site and there it was 'A brief history of the Club', perfect. It even names STF for his contribution to the Club in 1991. More perfect.
I'm off out the door with Hibs top and 5 sheets of paper in hand. I have to find frames.
My trusted partner of 29 years (10 as a pen pal, 19 as a wife) Sally, is in the car with me directing me to a place that claims to frame things in a hurry.
We pull up to 'Fast Frame' in Rancho Bernardo and enter the premises at approx. 3pm.
We introduce ourselves to the owners and tell them our mission. The owners look at me like I'm from another planet and then stare at their watch for what seems like an eternity.
"I don't know if we can pull this off John, the top will need to be sewn onto the background and we'll have to find a 3' by 4' frame for the top and a suitable frame for the paper."
"What's your name?" I ask
"Sean"
BEAUTIFUL!!
"Sean, in business you need 2 things, time and money. When you're short of one you need more of the other. I'm short of time."
"Irish heritage?" I ask
"Yes"
"Let's take a quick look at the history of the club and tell me your thoughts."
The pages are shuffled through, peering with interest at certain spots.
"This is kind of neat,"
SOLD!
"Okay John, come back at 6pm, we close then and I'll see what can be done."
You little beauty!!
In the interim, I call Mike Burns on his cell phone, he's in the Cask & Barrel on Broughton Street when he answers. I bring him up to speed on the proceedings and we laugh insanely at how this has all happened. My aspirations were for Mike and I to get two clothes poles of the same length in the back green so I could do Pat Stanton justice when I stuck it in the top corner instead of over the bar. Here I was now, in San Diego, getting ready to meet with the owner of Hibs to watch the game live.
I arrive at 6pm promptly at my new friend 'Sean's' fast framing service. Sean invites me to come through to the back and witness the finishing touches. I am absolutely gob smacked!! The top looks unbelievable in the frame and the history has been carefully set in the frame, each page chronologically laid out in it's own insert. This is more than I could have hoped for. My chest swells with pride at the thought of STF presenting the pub with these.
I get home and gasps come from the gang as they see the 'mementos' in their resplendent beauty.
I don't sleep that night.
Sunday, 4am:
I get up in the dark before the alarm is due to go off at 4:30am. Sally is still fast asleep, however, I can hear the dogs stir. I let them out into the 2 acres of property and decide that I need to go and take my shower.
4:30am
I'm sitting on the end of the bed when the alarm goes off and Sally stirs. She sits bolt upright and exclaims "You scared the shit out of me!"
"Sorry."
"You're still that same wee boy waiting to go to the game aren't you?"
"I'll need program money, bus fare, sweetie money and money to get in" I declare. Sally smiles.
It's 5:15am when we start off to the Blarney Stone. We find the pub tucked away in a corner of a small shopping centre.
I'm outside when 2 guys appear from inside and stare at us.
" Are you the owner?"
"Yeah, that's me" a heavy Irish accent announces.
I declare our intentions, let him know who's coming and ask if I can store the 'memento's' in a back room. No problem.
The Celtic guys start to appear as we sit inside. The clock is ticking. Tick, tick, tick.
The owner fires up the big screen at around 5:55am and Setanta announce 5 minutes to kick off. Tick, tick, tick.
A couple of minutes to kick off and who can only be STF appears wearing a sport coat. Sally rises and says "Sir Tom?"
The answer is in the affirmative and I rise slowly with my hand thrust forward to introduce myself to the owner of Edinburgh Hibernian Football Club.
I'm introduced to STF's son in law who's accompanying him and we chit chat for a minute or two before STF shows me his cell phone announcing the starting line up for the game today.
We settle in to watch the game and chit chat as the game's being played. When Steven Whittaker swings in that cross from under the South Stand and Balde connects to send the ball sailing into the top corner the Hibs support in the Blarney Stone Pub in San Diego, California, USA erupts (me, STF, the son in law & Sally).
The Celtic guys are more amused than anything else. It's probably been a while since
a) there was a 'visiting support' in the pub and
b) the owner of Hibs was celebrating us taking the lead over them.
Half time:
"Tom, can I show you something?"
"Sure John"
I walk STF back to the room where I've stored the 'memento's'
"I understand you had some bother getting a package delivered"
"Aye, a mix up with the address I think"
"Well, I hope you can use these to present to the pub instead"
"Oh, John, no, no, no. That's too much. You take them home and put them back on your wall"
My heart sinks
"Well actually, Tom, that top was hanging on a coat hanger and those pages were blank in my printer at about 2pm yesterday.
"REALLY?" "It would be my honour to present them"
I rouse up the Celtic guys and the pub owner, let them know that STF would like to make a presentation to them and the pub and take a few pictures.
No problem.
As we're standing outside the pub in the 7:00am sunshine, I hear Sunshine on Leith in my head.
A cell phone is thrust into my hand "Here John, talk to Rod Petrie"
"Hello"
"Is this John Inglis from San Diego?"
"It is, is this Rod Petrie?"
"Aye, how's things with Sir Tom?"
"Well TOM and I are just making a presentation and having our pictures taken"
"Great, send us copies would you?"
"My pleasure Rod, here's TOM"
The second half was a joy. We could have and should have won that game and the Celtic guys knew it.
After the game, we stood outside the pub in the warm glow of a new day. We said our goodbye's as STF announced that had to dash off to make the morning mass and give thanks.
Sir Tom Farmer stands in front of John Inglis, as they educate a few San Diego Soapdodgers about Hibernian Football Club
Late that morning, I received a call from Colin McNeill who said that STF was very pleased with the 'memento's'.
I missed the call that arrived on my cell phone later that evening. It was a blessing in disguise. It was 'TOM' who left a message saying how much he had enjoyed the day.
I still have that message saved to this day. I listen to it often, just to remind myself how fortunate I was.
I have since received a hand written note again thanking Sally and I for the time we spent together. A wonderful addition for what will take centre stage in my future Hibees 'shrine'. Guess where I'll have it framed?
On Monday morning, my cell phone rang and it was again 'TOM' letting me know that it was important to him to tell me in person how much he appreciated meeting Sally and I and how much he hoped we could meet again, on either side of the pond.
The only editorialising that I will make to this entire event is:
If you think that STF is removed from the Hibees, you're dead wrong. The man goes out of his way to educate himself on the club's history (asking the Celtic guys if they realized that at some point or another since our foundation there have been many senior clubs who have included the name Hibernians in their name).
If you think that STF is only in this for the money, you're dead wrong. The man is giving back to a community where he was born and raised.
If you think that STF is content to sit in an Ivory Tower and watch the 'little people', you're dead wrong. He's a man that has come a long way in life but still is VERY close to his roots and core beliefs.
I have been blessed from climbing those steps all the way up to the top of the world as a wee boy that was the old terracing to having my boyhood hero Pat Stanton being included as one of my friends and now, I honestly feel as though I made a friend in the club's current care taker and owner 'TOM'.
I truly believe that if it hadn't been for the actions of 'TOM' in 1991, there's a chance that I wouldn't have had the chance to be sitting in that pub in San Diego watching us get tore into the soapdodgers in 2004. Join me or not, I took the opportunity of telling STF, on behalf of Hibs fans from around the world 'Thanks'. I believe by the look on his face that he appreciated the thanks and reminded him of why he did what he did in the first place.
I hope that you enjoyed reading this article as much as I have in recounting the memory. If you're a wee boy out there reading this and you want to play for the Hibees, don't give up. If you're a dad out there who wants their son to play for the Hibees, don't give up. If you're a fan who's waiting to see the Hibees lift the Scottish Cup, don't give up.
"A loser is someone who quits, a winner is someone who never quits. No matter what, don't give up."
After all, dreams can come true, especially when you least expect them to!
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...............WHILST WATCHING THE HIBEES WITH UNCLE SAM.