"EH MIND OH 73"

"BUT MUM,YOU HAVE TO LET US GO, WE'VE BEEN TO EVERY OTHER GEMME SO FAR"

"I DONT CARE IF ITS THE WORLD CUP FINAL, YOUR NO GOING TO GLASGOW AND THATS THAT"

The argument raged for days in our house, but eventually the persistence that only a whineing 13 year old can maintain won the day and we were off to Hampden!

The day began with the walk fae the Blackie across to the Lochee Dee Club, to board one of Nappers finest "luxury coaches" (well they had seats). The bairn's had to wait in the club foyer with coke and crisps, and chattered excitedly about the fitba, while the adults fortified themselves in the lounge for the long day ahead.

Two weeks before Christmas was never the best date for the Cup Final and this particular one proved worse than most. As I remember, the trip through to Glasgow wasn't too bad (but that may be just remembering through dark blue tinted glasses). The time was passed playing doms and three card brag whilst the excitement mounted the nearer we got to our destination.

On arriving at Hampden a sleety wet driving snow was falling persistently, but didn't dampen our enthusiasm and certainly not the enthusiasm of the by now well fortified senior member (no bans on kerry-oots on the bus in those days). Surely my Wrangler jacket with a multitude of Dees badges embroidered on it, a scarf around each wrist and one one round my neck plus obligatory wooly tammy would keep me warm from the elements!

Come kick off, amidst rumours of the game being abandoned, the crowd has swollen to a mere 28,000 with about 5,000 Dees huddled at the back of the North terracing, still to this day the worst attendance at a major cup final.

All thought of hypothermia and pneumonia were forgotten however, when Gordon Wallace stuck away the only goal of the game, to send the wet and bedraggled Dark Blue faithful into raptures. By the time the cup was presented all Celtic support had long since disappeared leaving a damp but happy band of us at the front of the cinder terracing "singing in the rain".

"We've won the Cup" "Johnnie Scobbie" and "if your know your history "echoed round a near empty Hampden for half an hour before we headed soaking but euphoric on the road and the miles hame, breaking the journey at Auchterarder for fish suppers all round, even the bairns were given a wee can of lemonade shandy.

The following day the Cup was paraded through the City Square and also at the Angus Hotel (where Debenhams now stands) although my memory blurs badly as to the actual events of that day. I do remember the Sunday Post headline that morning being the cringe worthy "Gay Gordon" referring to Wallace's goal.

Nothing however can blur the memory of the feeling of elation experienced by a 13 year old seeing his beloved team lift the Cup. I just hope in another thirty years time I'll be able to say "eh mind oh 2003".

(In 30 years i hope "eh can mind oh anything"!)

ALANMAC