Helicopter Sunday

22 May 2005. The title race fur the Scottish Premier League has culminated in one last day ae football action. Celtic ir two points clear ae Rangers at the top ae the table. The title decider hus come tae the final games ae the season. Celtic play Motherwell at Fir Park and Rangers play Hibernian at Easter Road in Edinburgh. If Celtic win the day then they take the title. Fur Rangers tae take the title clean, we need a win and Celtic huv tae draw or lose. The trophy is transported tae the winnin team in a helicopter. Mid-game, the chopper wid hover halfway wae it’s precious cargo – the Scottish Premier League trophy – then depart tae the winnin side fur the medal presentation n the liftin ae the cup.

We’re in the Orange Hall n everywan is here, young n eld. Eld grannies up on their feet wae the tough worky cunts that populate the club. We’re aw wan the day, united in our common loyalty tae the red, white n blue n the Queen’s eleven. There’s pints flowin n a fuckin din floatin oot every door n windae ae the Orange Hall, pure fuckin sash bash. Yir surrounded by tradition in here. The mirrored mural pictures ae our flute band and their comrades fae Northern Ireland hang on the walls. The Union flag flyin ootside as a reminder ae the place’s loyal leaning. The Red Hand of Ulster, King William III of Orange, the Union flag, the British crown, the YCV, the UVF n 1690. These ir our symbols. It’s family n tradition n fitbaw n flows through the veins ae our community, part ae yir very fabric. At moments like this, yir united and divided at the same time. Yi felt part ae our blue brotherhood, but yir split fae the other half ae our community. The Irish Tricolour, green, white n gold, the hardships ae famine n British rule, hunger-strikers, FREE DERRY, Sinn Fein, the INLA n the IRA. Those ir their symbols. We love tae hate each other and on days when victory is yours, it’s fuckin phenomenal. The Old Firm – the clash ae the famous Glasgow Rangers and our arch enemies n otherwise friends n neighbours at Celtic Football Club.

Rangers ir up one–nil against Hibs at Easter Road and the score is the same fur Celtic in Motherwell. If it stays like this, then Celtic take the championship. Yi kin feel the charge in the very air, thick wae loyalty and nervousness at being defeated by them. The commentators huv the same excitement in their voices. There’s a commotion in the away stand n a mighty roar sounds fae the Rangers support at Easter Road. The coaches n Big Eck McLeish ir lookin aboot. Everyone is on their feet in the club in anticipation. Another box comes up in the screen and the sound switches tae the Celtic game.

SCOTT McDONALD!

HE’S SCORED! McDONALD FOR MOTHERWELL!

ONE ALL AT FIR PARK!