…and the kilt.
That’s the way to find Hampden Park, never mind the lack of road signs and the plod standing round next to the turned off traffic lights instead of directing traffic.
It’s that soggy guy with the Spanish hat the Scottish skirt who is soaking wet and so white he can only be a local – but then the guy at the gate said that about us – that’s your guide to the home of Jock football.
I said with two Spanish sides reaching the final it would have to rain for them and so it did but it didn’t stop the singing, it didn’t stop the horns, it didn’t stop the drum and it didn’t stop the well what seemed at the time like a bomb going off.
Didn’t stop a lot of people having a good time, until that last penalty was saved…
…and then one lot probably felt the rain a bit more when they exited the stadium than the others.
Not a bad game, couple of cracking goals exciting yes there was never any chance it was going to be Real Madrid vs Eintracht Frankfurt in 1960. No single player seemed to get hold of the game and the frustrating thing with continental game at times the over playing, no one wanting to take a shot but would rather try something too fancy and end up tackling himself, especially the Sevilla number 16 Puerta who was extremely frustrating.
But it left me and by the looks of it others with THFC caps / clothing or banners (as above) thinking we could have walked this, it could have been Ledley lifting that weighty trophy that made Billy McNeill look like he was struggling to parade it before kick off.
Oh well just have to see if they can make it to Manchester next year…don’t know if there’ll be many guys with sombreros and kilts there…