| Warm Cidona n all! |
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| Written by NoLongerachisler | |
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Ye righ Da comon will ya... Off we set, oh wait..."heres yer jumper son", now bear in mind its September, around 20 degrees and Ma wants me to cover up me jersey that I got for me birthday, O'Neil's factory 2nd mind you, but the colour is what matters. Jumper quickly discarded in Van on way in. Parked the bus around 50 miles from the stadium and began the trek, If I had have known then what I know now, me dad needed a Tibetan sherpa to guide him on a more direct route to the venue as opposed to "I just wanna have a look for someone in here for a ticket, wait here". After the 3rd or fourth time of "wait here" I was like, "I'll wait if I get a Cidona 'n' cripps Da". A warm Cidona and cripps on a Sunday before a game....does it get better? Were now outside a pub called Gills, jaysus (sorry ma) its a shocking snot green colour, but to this day, 20 odd years later me Da still says when we pass "only open on match days that one". There's knees and hips everywhere now at this stage, I am mesmerised by the Nikes, Nike Air, Reebok pumps and Addidas torsions, wish I had a pair of those, me mates would go mad! Looking up beyond the footwear I see red, white and blue, nope its not yer ones birthday over in the palace but true followers of today's teams.....and then the banter starts! I can understand my own brethren at an early age..."Goooo on d'dubs", "Hill16 la la la, hill 16 la la la", "shtory", "stick us on another pint there" DAD come on (for fuck sake, he whispers quietly)!! Ok, I am still young but I thought we all spoke the same words in "I R land"....there's these fellas and girls wearing red and white yapping away but all I can here is "...a fella fell of a lorry.." One final swig of my now Jones road temperature cidona and we are away. "is the hill this side Da? Nah the far side....janey mac its miles away, hope there's no more pubs on the way for me Da. Ok were in and there are a few teenagers playing already....are we late Da? Nah were not late, there the miners. Miners? Really? Bit young to be diggin if you ask me.....anyways its really beginning to fill up now. "you alright son?" Asks the oul lad. Before I have a chance to say anything, there's a massive cheer that drowns out my "yea Da, grand". The Dubs are on the field..... No I will be honest, I cant remember much from the game, but I know we won, and because I know that, as a kid that's all that matters. I was there the day we won. I knew the next day, I was headin back to school win/lose/or draw with a story that would flatten mountains to my mates. By the looks of it there's a few minutes left, there are big men, as big as me Da, facing the other way saying the cant watch it, "the nerves are gone". One final cheer and I have loads a space, its over alright but nobody is leaving...they're all heading to the fence, its open, no way!!! No permission slip needed here..."Da? I'm off!" I must have been 5000 steps from the front each step I was praying that the pitch wouldn't fill up and somefella at the gate would say, sorry son, regulars only or something (which I hear a lot in later years) like that. He doesn't, he even sticks out his hand, what a lámh, this one would cut trees in half if it wanted. One scoop up and I cant believe it, not only am I in Croker, I am on it! What do I do next? Get outta the Effin way, that's what! As I turn to look up at me Da, he was wearing the blue jersey, there is a stampede of manic dubs fans heading my way....they were coming to celebrate with me? No! I made haste and ran in front of my followers, cheering shouting and just delighted to be there. Got about half way up the pitch and was knackered. To this day I swear to god John O'Leary looked down at me and me alone, fair play to the goaldykeeper. Looking around I tried to take it all in, then in perfect timing another hand comes out of the blue soup and its one I know....the oul lad puts his hand on me shoulder and says "well what do ya think son". Its deadly Da isn't it. We cheered, laughed, I even got a jockey back outta Croker, I was the king of Dublin for a few mins! Now as a rule me dad had a few pints on the way in, but it was straight home after. Let me rephrase that one, it was straight home, stopping at every single pub on the way. The usual smelly oul places, full of red bearded men with bits a Guinness and stuff caught in it! Yeugh! Have another Cidona....jaysus a IR£1 coin, another one and another one! No way, drunk men are generous, silly but generous nonetheless. "Da, I'm cold", where's yer jumper? (see ma was right) We get home, at god knows what time, I am still smiling. "Ma it was deadly, we won" A fella called Charly Richmond was fighting and all, it was deadly ma!" Me ma is delighted I am back in one piece, a big hug and she then turns the attention to "himself". "Look at the <earmuffs> state of you, I cant believe you let yourself get into that bleedin sate with YOUR SON with you. I bet nobody else had THEIR KIDS with them. Now usually me Da never backs down from an argument, but this time, he doesn't even pretend to listen. The Dubs are magic, the jacks are back! All the giving out in the world wont take that away from a man who has been following them since they were shyte in the 50's up till today! I'm fading fast now, I head to bed, sure I probably slept in the van on the "way home". Anyways I'm for the off, the king of Dublin's pillow awaits.... Just as the light go off....."Ma?"...had a great day with me Da today. "Who's Charly Richmond", asks the mother. Night Night.
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