A tidy night and day’s work

Date: 21st June 2021

The latest blog from SFSA writer Donald Stewart:


They came, they saw, they even tidied up…

If there is to be condemnation over the sight of COVID fitba breakers, then there has to be praise for their behaviour afterwards.

Should it be merited.

And it was.

If the reputation of football supporters had been sullied, and it had, after the Scottish Premiership celebrations, when we collectively hung our head in shame, then we ought to lift our heads up higher in memory of the redemption.

Leicester Square got a tidy up.

It was the day after, the night before when social media became filled with the pictures, underneath there was the legend, “You won’t find these on the BBC” as Tartan Army foot soldiers were snapped picking up the litter and bags from the street.

In fairness to the BBC, they did print it.

In fairness to the fans, it was unlikely that the Square was left in apple pie with it looking as pristine as it did prior to their arrival but the effort was worthy of the print.

The Tartan Army, of the “No Scotland, No party” party had a realistic focus and a story to tell which proved that legend and boast true. It was magnificent to see as the party got a clean afterwards.

Along with the pride, the passion and for once the result, this was the redemption of O’Donnell, the steeliness of the gaffer, the rediscovery of a Gilmour and the hope of a nation bound up in 90 minutes of total and absolute pleasure.

I, of course, lost a stone and a half of worry and excitement as I sat on my couch pretending to be working at the same but keeping an eye keeking on every pass of the ball. The nation was redeemed. The fans were redeemed. The players were redeemed. Hope was resprung. And as I sit typing away, the old doubts of experience creep in and I think to myself, we shan’t do it. We shall get to 85 minutes and be 2-1 up. There shall be a Croatian corner and it shall smack off the backside of their left back, in off the post and we shall have got close but find the cigar box empty.

We shall then sit and ponder.

But this team. This man. This Clarke fella.

There is something different about him. He is different gravy. He knows. He has pain and hurt all over his face. He cares. We care. Together this can be done – can it not? Can’t it? Yes. It can…

Who am I to call upon the experience of the past? For I am an Ayr fan. I am somebody who believes every year we shall win the Premier League. And we’re no even in it! Yon man, Clarke is even a Killie legend and I am denying the logic of prejudice (An oxymoron if ever there was one) to root for him. To shout his name with pride. And for once, I don’t think I need to wake up – I have had my coffee….


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