There may never be another so make the most of it…!

Southbound With Stu

WELL I HAVE been known to offer the odd thought come a weekend, (after being thoughtless all week!) and thought I might perhaps kill two birds (and a couple of blokes) with one stone with this piece of nonsense here. I offer no apologies for this (as yet) and would therefore offer up my ISP as your first port of call in case of any distress served by the following ‘banter’.

Football stuff
Much talk of Ian Murray’s supposed move to Ibrox brings the Glasgow club to our attention of late
Thankfully we only have to visit the Glorious Govan heartland of the Loyal but twice a year. Surely that is twice too many entries into the fortress of the sons of William. I personally had the rather dubious pleasure of attending many a game there in that glorious era of the1970’s, staying as I did at my evil step grannie’s house in deepest Bellshill, (stop shuddering now).

The worst memory from that time, and there were a few, was of visiting Ibrox with Uncle Charlie. Charlie is the black sheep of the family having been a Celtic supporter for nigh on sixty years now. I had plenty to thank Uncle Charlie for that day though as we stood in the Celtic end well away from the terrible disaster that unfurled at the climax of that fateful Ne’er day game between the Auld Firm. Sixty-six dead was the final death toll as Rangers fans fatefully turned back up stairway 13 as Colin Stein dramatically equalised in injury time Celtic’s opener just one minute before by ‘Jinky’ Johnstone. Many odious and depressing happenings might still be viewed in the modern Ibrox but none will ever take the breath away as did the events of that day in 1971.

66 people died some in flower of their manhood,
When the fences gave way and the barriers bent,
Seasoned Glasgow policemen their faces all tearstained,
With brave efforts, endeavoured far worse to prevent.
All of Glasgow enjoined, for the first time in history.
In the Glasgow cathedral no Billy's, no Dan's.
But the Old Firm united to pray for their victims,
Of a tragedy set in the memory of man.
New Year Bells had been ringing,
All of Scotland was singing,
The old year had died,
And the new had been born.
As the news of disaster,
From Ibrox came spreading,
The news that would cause a whole nation to mourn.
From ‘The Ibrox Disaster’ by Matt McGinn

More football

And what football! On a ‘research study’ at my favourite watering hole The Woodlark’ at Lambley, (tours available), your sleuth ‘nebbed in’ as they say in these parts, on a conversation between some worthies who were talking of some sterling names from the local football fraternity. Totally ignoring my partner of course, I listened in with glee as the names of Jim Baxter and Joe Baker dutifully came to bear upon proceedings. That Nottingham Forest in particular have much indebtedness to players from north of Hadrian’s Wall is not lost on most Forest fanatics to their great credit. The talk was of ‘Slim Jim’ and his magic left foot which he self-christened ‘The Glove’. It seemed lost on these local lads after the decades had passed on how Jim struggled in the Garibaldi Red of their beloved team, (mainly due to the wonderful social life James Curran Baxter had sought out in the Lace city).

Hibernian FC – The Green Jerseys

Keep The Faith

Stu.