Revenge? Not even close!

On February 4^th Aberdeen play a Scottish Cup fifth round game at home against a team from a lower league. As a Don I always worry about such ties. Earlier this season East Fife came to Pittodrie and knocked us out the League Cup. The majority of their players that night had done a days work before, one even had to get up for school the next day! The opponents in this coming cup tie are a team whose name still haunts me, Queen of the South.

April 12^th 2008

This is not a piece about a classic seven goal thrilling semi final, in fact I remember very little about the game itself. It’s about hope, disbelief, frustrating, anger and even heartbreak.

I had just started working in Glasgow and was enjoying taunting the Celtic fans the day before the game as we had knocked them out in the quarter final and we were off to Hampden to play a first division team. Even as reds we were confident of reaching our first cup final since Robbie Winters was our keeper!

The first annoying thing was the kick off time 12.00, great for those coming from the North! There was an air of optimism around our end of the ground and sprits were high.  I remember going 1 down, and as always an ex Aberdeen player scored, there was a kid in front of me who took a picture of the scoreboard and he continued to do this all game! We equalised soon after and with the scores level at half time doubts began to creep into mind but the general chat was there’s still the second half and we’ll come through.

The second half was mental! 5 goals in 11 minutes. It was difficult to keep up with the score, although the wee boy with the scoreboard obsession was still snapping away. They scored then we scored, they scored again, we equalise again every time we levelled we thought “right we’ll sort it now” Then they scored again and we didn’t. We didn’t! There was still half an hour to go and time just slipped away. What was happening? is this real? I spent the last 5 minutes looking at the mix of confusion, dismay, and rage around me everything but the pitch.

The final whistle went, we lost! Lee Miller was the only player who dared to walk towards the fans so bared the brunt of the thousands of people whose shirt colour matched their mood.

It felt like bereavement, some may say that’s a bit extreme others will know exactly what I mean. Groups of people wondering round the South side of Glasgow not knowing what to say. We went into the town for a much needed beer but before that my mates checked into their hotel where we met 2 guys at the reception with Red scarves that, like us, were limp and lifeless. We didn’t talk; we exchanged a dismayed look at a shake of the head.

The cherry on top was I had to work that night. I wasn’t ready for the banter, it’s said it’s only too soon if it’s not funny. It wasn’t funny!

Soutar, Maybury, Diamond, Considine, McNamara, Nicholson, Sevrin, Foster, Aluko, Miller Maguire

A Dons starting line up that will be remembered for the wrong reasons.

When the draw was made some people were posting about revenge. This game is not about revenge it’s about getting to the next round. I won’t forget that day, but I could forgive if in May a man in a Red shirt lifts the cup. Well, a fella can dream!