Passion

Well, Saturday was the day when it all happened. 

In Cumbernauld the church fete got underway at 1:30pm. All the weeks of organising had been done and everything had been handed over to the people 'on the ground' who would look after things in my absence. For I had another appointment that afternoon.

In fact, that appointment started in mid-morning when one of my friends picked me up and took me back to their place, where a large cooked breakfast was being laid on. We would need it! The pre-booked mini-bus left Cumbernauld for Hampden shortly after 12.30 and by the time the aforementioned church fete was getting under way my friends and I were enjoying a pre-match refreshment in a hostelry about a mile from the National Stadium.

It was everything one would expect from a cup -final involving teams who were not bitter rivals - anticipation, apprehension, excitement, passion, anger, frustration, moments of delirium, moments of anxiety, moments of doubt, tears of joy at the result, tears of sadness at what might have been. That's what sport does to a fan of one of the teams taking part.

Sadly for me, my team lost. I believe they should have and could have won. But we were there. And it was fun while it lasted.

(And I heard when I got home late that night that the church fete had raised about £2002 - at least one result to be happy about, but small consolation at the time.) Don't anyone tell me that football is just a game!