Hampden appeared in the gloom. A coloseum attracting a green and white swarm. The rain wasn’t dampening the spirits, it was cup final day.
Faulty turnstyles caused a delay. The swarm became stuck and restless. My young frame was pressed against a wall. Adults frantically protecting me. The smell of beer, fags and damp was over-powering. I was drowning.
A shout, a bear like polisman, an open gate, then a never ending staircase. I’m placed on a cold wet crush barrier, a vantage point of a king, looking over the sodden bobble hats of the crowd.
A set back made the rain feel colder and older. I was held tightly and a prophet reassuringly whispered: “He’s scoring here”. The fairytale ending was as close as my next breath. A cross and a dive of green and white. My eyes closed with excitement surrounded by joy. The cup was coming home.
published in Mind The Time, which is available to buy with all proceeds going to Football Memories Scotland.