They aw stop dead in their tracks but n start backin aff. Their faces ir a fuckin picture cos A hear a famous cry, Fuckin Young Team! YT fuckin P! A turn tae see aw the troops, backin us up tae the fuckin hills. The full party hus emptied n they’re aw here. Danny, Broonie, Finnegan, Wee Kenzie, Gunny, Briggy n the new ranks ae younger wans whose names A don’t know. Ma troops ir the tap men noo – the elder wans. The wee young team ir aw here, backin us up, fulfillin their destiny tae be YT legends like us. They’re followin in our footsteps, like we hud in Big Kenzie’s. A’m still in the middle, troops beside us, arms wide, blue Berghaus on, bottle ae Tonic in ma paw, geein it fuckin laldi. The full YTP is here backin up eld Azzy boy in his greatest hour ae need. We’re twenty strong n runnin amok, back on patrol after aw these years – THE FAMOUS YOUNG TEAM.

The Toi wans huvnae moved forward n they’re aw hesitatin noo. Matty swaggers up, still wae his blade oot. ‘Phffft! Look the fuckin nick ae yi, Azzy. Needin aw these wee guys tae back yi up!’

‘Put yir fuckin blade doon then n take us a square-go!’

Aw the young faces ir lookin up at me wae a kind ae fuckin wonderment, pure admiration. This is the start ae that great journey fur them, the same as it wis fur us aw they year ago – but tae wit a dark place it hud led us aw, tae the very door ae our ain destruction, tae the limit ae our minds n bodies n intae this vast hopelessness. These young boys cannae be more than fourteen or fifteen. A feel complicit somehow in their future sufferings in this, our moment at the front ae the pack as elder wans n tap men, a right ae passage earned wae survival ae the streets. These wee cunts ir ma enlightenment n they return me tae maself.

‘Want us tae set aboot these cunts, Azzy big man? We’re wae yi, cuz!’ the wee tap man says.

A turn tae aw ma boys n laugh. The young wans don’t understand, they look ready tae dae a bit, as bold n daft as we wur. Danny n Broonie ir laughin cos they git it. They huv their ain plans n noo we’re the elder wans, content tae stand at the back, no longer concerned by the troubles ae the young team. A foreign species – elder wans – beyond violence n trouble, beyond drugs n drink, happy tae live our lives wae burds n holidays n work n motors. A sit ma wine bottle doon by the kerb.

‘Nah, wee pal. It’s finished.’

Matty overhears us n A see him throw doon his blade n start walkin up tae us. ‘It’s finished? Ma brur’s fuckin face isnae finished so nuhin’s finished, dafty!’

‘A’m fuckin tellin yi, it’s done.’