On this marvellous day....

[ballumbie_arab]

Like others have posted, there was just something in the build up to that final, that many Arabs thought it would finally be our year. Perhaps the pumping of Rangers at Ibrox earlier in the season, where we were 3-0 up within 20mins, gave everyone that belief? Regardless, the restricted number of tickets, the noise and constant singing of the fans, songs played before the kick-off all contributed, and I still think we unnerved Rangers, because everyone was so relaxed. Thankfully, was old enough to really enjoy the bevvy before/after the game, and for the days following it 🤣
Wanted to have a punt on us, as the odds were so good, but never got near a bookies on the way to the game, maybe that was a good sign, the rest is history. Still remember being one of last fans out of the ground, as about 40-50 of us did the conga up each and every row all the way from about row D (they went to triple letters if I recall), much to the annoyance of the stewards, and even got a wee mention from Dougie Donnelly, as the camera panned to us. Happy Days!!

[JamesMcClean]

I’d left on my travels by that season and was based in Devonport so hadn’t really seen much of the team that year. Managed to wangle a ticket through my then girlfriend’s Dad who knew somebody at the Club. Travelled up the 560 miles on the Friday and then drove through to Glasgow on the Saturday.

Because I’d been away, I really was looking at things on paper and to be frank, I thought we were on the decline with the loss of guys like Ray McKinnon, John O’Neill, Duncan Ferguson etc who really ought to have been the next generation side that would have carried us forwards for years. Consequently I couldn’t see us winning at all but at the same time because I’d been out of town I hadn’t really grasped the feeling running through the support that this WAS the year. I think after six previous losses there was a general feeling of ‘Ach aye, phuck it, what’s the worst that can happen.’. Ivan got it, the team got it, the support got it and it seemed to mean that we went through with little expectation, which for us as a Club was perversely actually a good thing. It meant that the pressure was actually all on the Hvns to do their unprecedented double treble thing.

When I got in the ground, the first song that came on was Dignity and the way the punters sang along to it, you just knew. No one will ever be able to explain how, but you just somehow knew. This was the Day.

I didn’t really look at my watch much after Brewster’s goal and for me, it actually went by reasonably quickly and the first realisation that we were close was when the stewards started to come out and line the track at the foot of the terracings as is their want when full time is imminent. That’s when it hit me that ‘phuck me we’re going to do this.’ As the whistle went, I was at the end of a row, I slumped down to my knees, got up and there was this guy bounding down the stairs toward me shouting, ‘They’ve won it, they’ve only gone and phucking won it!’.

Like other Arabs I’m sure, we were all welling up when Mo raised the trophy, but at the same time I also thought of those great players from our past who had been denied raising it, often cruelly, like Heggie, Davie Narey, Luggy, Bannon et al. So it was good to see Hegarty and Narey on the pitch with the team at the end. I so wish that Oor Jum could have come out because that one was for him as well.

Infact that one was for all of us. St Mirren in 87, Motherwell in 91, Celtic ad infinitum, Luggy’s ‘offside’ screamer v Oldco, we’d been through the mill and then some. We’d paid the price and that day, we finally collected our dues. Once again, What.A.Phucking.Day.

#WASC