He puts a hand up n pushes ma face, still feart tae crack us wae the YT at ma back. A put ma hand oot fur him tae shake. ‘Shake ma fuckin paw n it’s finished. A’m no tryin tae start.’ Matty cracks us a beauty n A ride it. Feeble as per. ‘Git yir fuckin hand oot n shake ma paw, ya prick. Yi gonnae dae this forever? Grow the fuck up, man. A’m tellin yi A’m no wantin tae start. A’m sorry aboot yir brother’s face.’

‘N fuckin wit! Yir fuckin sorry! Aye right!’

‘A’m tellin yi, it’s fuckin done. Nae cunt is wantin trouble.’

‘Fuckin Azzy Williams has shat it, finally! Wit a fuckin pussy you ir, mate! You used tae be a decent cunt tae. The tap fuckin man oot the younger wans!’

‘Mon, boys,’ A say as A leave those cunts standin n walk back up the lane towards Danny’s gaff n the party wae the full YTP beside us. The Toi wans ir still shoutin suhin, but A don’t turn back tae look. A put ma arm roon the wee tap man n he passes us his wine. ‘Wit’s yir name, wee man?’

The transformation is complete n A’m transported tae a moment eight year ago when A seen the big troops standin behind us. That’s us noo n the young team is no more, we’ve passed through n above n beyond somewhere without realisin it. There is almost nae violence left in me – but wit is left is reserved fur the status quo, that attitude, the solidarity amid the decline. The defiant ‘Don’t gee a fuck.’ It’s that A want tae fight. Our conditionin, two hundred years ae hard labour, made us believe this shite is aw there is fur us – our lot, the drink n drugs, anaesthetic n elixir tae this social nightmare. A didnae believe that. No fur a minute. We wur aw deceived by the lure ae the Friday Feelin n aw the rest ae the great deception. We built our barriers tae a future high as mighty barricades n defended them, sometimes wae our lives. A hud been at war, but ma war wisnae against the Toi, but maself.

Airdrie Boys

A wander through the woods wan last time, up the eld fadin paths towards the Mansion. There’s piles ae brown leaves under ma feet n the end ae summer is in the air. Yi kin smell the long grass that sways in the wind n soaks yir ankles as yi make yir way through. A barbed-wire fence sits at forty-five degrees n seems tae lean drunk intae the field. A huge conker tree is the sentinel that watches yi as yi start on its path. Its spikey green fruit is scattered aboot the wide trunk. Yi kin see where wee guys hud split them n acquired the prizes inside, big fat brown pearls. A never minded actually playin the game, just seein who could git the biggest wan n polish the starchy remnants ae its green body armour on yir jumper n stick it in yir pocket, after, of course, yir many boasts tae yir wee chums that yours wis the best n theirs wis shite. The weans huv aw long since run hame cos it’s gittin dark. The long nights started tae retreat backwards n the darkness came in earlier around the parks, garages n eld closes once again.