All we wanted was a goal,
maybe a crunching tackle, like days of old.
You know the type?
the introduction that you’re going to get a game.
But we got so much more.
We took the storm from the sky,
brought it to the park,
the city defence found,
the swirling rain easier to mark
With no little skill,
coupled with the passion of fighting lovers
we made a mockery of money
and the belittling attitudes of others.
We started to dream that we would have a Scott McDonald,
a Massimo Donati or a Chris Sutton
even a Darius Dziekanowski,
winning this time,to send us home buzzing.
But we got enough to make the result an afterthought.
As the stentorian support roared
louder as it grew darker
a priceless 12th man ( that Arab dollars can’t buy)
the spirit of fireworks exploding in a box
delivered a bloody nose.
The knockout blows,
as celebrated by a bronze Caeser
holding the big cup skywards,
are in the past but are remembered on nights like these.
When the players grow into the hoops
go eye to eye
and are defiant,
standing on the shoulders of historical giants.
Written to ‘celebrate’ on of the best Champions League nights Celtic Park has ever bore witness and breathed life to. First published on Celtic Quick News.