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Bbc Sportsound Cup Special Tonight


sydney devine
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Apart from the actual game, my lasting memory is of the whole town being decked out in claret and amber with displays in shop windows, flags on lamp-posts and going to Fir Park in the morning to get my face painted. I lived in Hamilton and even knew a good few Accies supporters who got involved, went to the game and celebrated like the rest of us as the whole area got behind the club.

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Getting called 'a shower of fucking animals' by the ever polite Scotrail staff and papped off the 'cup special' train about 500 yds outside Motherwell after somebody pulled the emergency cord. We had to walk back along the railway lines and it was then like the Wacky Races trying to get to Hampden by any available means while listening to the first 20 mins of the game on the radio.

 

(Wis that too many sentences?)

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1. Mainly for just being there with my old man who was at the previous Cup victory. He passed away in 1994, but it's still a great memory

 

2. Got a T-Shirt made up with a pic of me and the baby daughter taken on the Sunday at FP (she will be 21 this year). Still keep it handy in my drawer..never wear it, but will never throw it oot

 

3. Gettin p*ssed afterwards in Girwood Wishaw, then going up the road and hanging my well scarf out the bedroom window overnite. F*ck the Old Firm.

 

edit - another memory was hearing that Jimmy Yuil had got lifted and missed the game! :mellow:

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After all the elation and singing after the final whistle, watching the cup being lifted and the walk back to the bus, feeling totally shattered coming back along the M74 and being told by a rangers supporting mate "cheer up, you'd have thought you lost the game its so quiet on here!" - it made me realise that OF fans didn't know what it's really like to win a cup because they just expect it to happen year in year out and it was nothing magical to them.

 

And to think I've now spent the next 20 years wondering what it would be like to see the 'well win two cups!

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Getting called 'a shower of fucking animals' by the ever polite Scotrail staff and papped off the 'cup special' train about 500 yds outside Motherwell after somebody pulled the emergency cord. We had to walk back along the railway lines and it was then like the Wacky Races trying to get to Hampden by any available means while listening to the first 20 mins of the game on the radio.

 

(Wis that too many sentences?)

 

Was on that train as well. Wacky Races as you say, guys literally throwing themselves in front of cars on Airbles Road to get them to stop and ask for a lift. :laugh:

My sentence would be to do with the tears of joy streaming down my face after the third goal went in, me and my mate cuddling and doing a jig on the Hampden steps, blubbing "We've done it, we've finally done it" before they Arab baistards went up the park and pulled one back. Totally ruined a beautiful moment. :blush:

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Apart from the match itself and the aftermatch parties,my lasting memory would be heading through Brandon Parade on my way to the pub pre match,the place was heaving,saw a space ahead just near Woolworths,headed straight towards it,only to find Hazel Irvine doing interviews for the telly with the fans,and i had walked right through the shot and fucked it up for her,she called me for everything didnt realise she knew half those words. :laugh:

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I switched to Motherwell from another team 6 months before the victory, I was in 1st year at high school and felt my support for Motherwell meant a lot to them than it did for being one of 250,000 following the OF.

 

I remember buying my tickets and beach hat from one of the three windows in the Main Stand. Amazing to think the clubs who merchandising operation was viewed through a 2ft square window. Only thing I've seen close to that where you point out what you want is in a Islamic bizarre or Digby's off licence.

 

My friends mum ran two buses generally full of full families, lots of mums who had never watched a Well game in their lives. Sang "she wore a yellow ribbon" in a constant loop into Hampden.

 

As for the game my defining memory was the general throng and sway of people all standing and pretty much looking at my feet in panic for most of the extra time. After the final whistle it was a blur.

 

Got back to Motherwell, just off Hamilton Road and heard there was something going on at FP. Walked up as quick as we could but arrived just as everyone was drifting away. Still got in and walked on the pitch.

 

That night heard Foggs were offering pints for 1950's prices, apparently it was carnage.

 

EDIT: Just re-read the original post and noticed the one sentence bit, apologies.

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Seeing the look on Tam Boyd's face when he lifted the cup, somewhere atween "canny believe this is happening" tae "this is fur youse lot on the terracing".

 

Driving back tae Fir Park and soon as ye goat off the M74 there wiz people on the road waving taw everyone coming back. Wull never forget the roar as the thronged masses saw the team bus come into view near the grun and inch it's way tae the front door, joyful bedlam indeed.

 

Ah'm no supertsitious or believe in fate but fae Jan-May that year I did wunnar: ah worked in a casino which meant back shifts & night shifts and withoot asking for any change in shifts I somehow goat all the shifts off that I needed tae get tae every gemme, fae the Saturday gemmes tae the Morton replay and the 2 Sellick midweek gemmes.

 

Oh and by the way work, when ah called in Sunday 19th May tae say ah wisney well, ah wiz actually calling in fae a public phonebox in the toon oan ma way tae a Glesgy pub fur mair celebrations. :evilgrin: :evilgrin:

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Wore a crinkly blue shellsuit top to the game :doh: Got a row off the old dear for giving the fingers to a Utd bus :doh: Looked on at the disbelief at the faces of my mates when old man came in with the celebratory drinks he promised us all if we won - India Pale Ale!! :doh:

 

But who cared - Motherwell had won the Cup! :woop:

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As a 9 year old boy, I missed all of extra time because I was too scared to watch, so I went outside and kicked a ball around on my granda's lawn, pretending I was Dougie Arnott as I tried to dribble round the Dundee United players (otherwise known as my granny's washing out on the clothesline).

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