2003 – A Spain Odessy

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 From north and south, from east and west, by boat and train and plane,
By car and foot, by barge and bike, we made our way to Spain,
We moved by day, we moved by night, by land and sea and air,
We hitched, we hiked, we thumbed, we stowed, somehow we all got there.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 Flight after flight descended in the blazing Spanish sun,
Not one or two or three or four, but thousands on each run,
A tidal wave of Bhoys and Ghirls, a flush of living green,
Coursed through the streets like streams in spate to flood the sun drenched scene.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 As every train sped on each track, it’s whistle blown on high,
It warned the world the Tim Malloys had drunk the buffets dry,
We came from every sovereign land and every nation state,
We came with Celtic in our hearts, we came to face our fate.

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 From Hong Kong, Hobart, New York too, Karachi, and Lahore,
From Melbourne, Perth, Johannesburg, from north to southern shore,
We came from right we came from left we came from up and down,
From every street and every lane we filled the whole damn town,

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 From ‘Catedral y Giralda’ to Rio Guadalquivir,
We drank the red, we drank the white, sambuca, stout, and beer,
From Santa Juste to Santa Cruz through to Real Alcazar,
Appeared just like the Gallowgate, each inn a Celtic bar.

6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 What of the game? Well such is life, the facts for all to see
Were that The Celts scored only two, and those cheating bastards ..Three!
But though we lost, each Bhoy in green – a hero every one,
Proved once again that when in Hoops, these colours never run!

7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 A flood of tears I saw that night, from wean to OAP,
But tears that sprung from bursting pride, I know ’cos one was me,
And singing voices once again resounded till the sun
Arose and seen the Celtic hosts and thought ‘What if they’d won!’

8 Leave a comment on verse 8 0 We came, we saw, we conquered hearts, we left without the prize,
But left with something dearer still, with smiles and sparkling eyes,
And though we lost the final there, ‘twas not a bitter pill,
We’ll ne’er forget that shining jewel, we’ll ne’er forget Seville.



Originally and sarcastically entitled ‘ You”ll be marking your Lotto, while we’re getting blotto” this was written in the immediate aftermath of the UEFA cup final of 2003: The full round journey from Glasgow to Barcelona and back took a full week with stopoffs in London Barcelona, Madrid, Valencia, Barcelona again, London, and arriving back in Glasgow in time to catch the final Game of the season at Kilmarnock. I am now 51 years old, so the memories sights, sounds and emotions are not just a flight of youthful fancy but now part of my dreams and if you cut me you will hear the sounds of the City of Seville. Fortunately or otherwise those sounds will have a Glasgow accent and smell like the Barras.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/2003-a-spain-odessy/