It was a high-risk strategy as most holidaymakers from Glasgow start their vacation pale blue, requiring a week in the sun to turn white before thinking about a tan. As the temperature soared and the alcohol poured, the prospect of heatstroke, dehydration and worse loomed high, only to be ignored. The only concern over the weather was that the Hoops were going to have to play in it. Porto, from just across the border, were acclimatised while Celtic were used to rain-lashed winter Monday nights in Aberdeen.
Naturally, the churches managed to get in on the act. The Catholics, headed by Archbishop Mario Conti, wished the Bhoys well and warned the travellers to beware the temptations of the flesh as the party atmosphere grew in the sun. He said: “The opportunity will doubtless be there for people to live to excess, whether through alcohol or drugs or reckless sexual behaviour. But they have to remember that morality is not suspended just because Celtic are in a cup final. All Catholics should be guided by their conscience. If they are, they will think twice about their sexual and moral conduct while in Spain.”
The Archbishop clearly hadn’t thought through his warning: the Bhoys were going to get pissed and cheer on their team. Why in God’s name would they be chatting up women unless there was any chance of charming them out of their briefs (Glasgwegian slang for tickets, by the way)?
The Kirk, on the other hand, congratulated the Hoops for their achievement in getting to the final when ministers met in the run up. They stopped short of wishing them success, of course, fearing a backlash from their predominantly Rangers-supporting congregation. The Celtic fans found this just another example of petty-minded sectarianism.
But why should Rangers fans, bombarded by beach balls and Li-Los, offer their support to their arch rivals? The Celts argued they should be cheering on the only side in Europe representing Scotland. Perhaps it hadn’t occurred that Henrik Larsson, a Swedish international, or the Frenchman Didier Agathe, didn’t consider they were playing for Scotland.
In Coatbridge, the tension was palpable. As match day progressed, the traffic eased and the few footsoldiers to be spotted were sporting colours on their way to wherever they were planning to make sure their team, 1500 miles away, heard their shouts. Smart pubs had issued tickets to their regulars to avoid overcrowding. Astonishing amounts of beer were stockpiled in cellars. Off-licences reported sales of pre-Hogmanay proportions.
The travelling support was officially the largest movement of fans for one match that UEFA had ever seen – by a long way. But Glasgow wasn’t about to forget which town was home to the Celtic. Baird’s Bar in the city centre went so far as to import two tons of sand just to add to the atmosphere. Bars across the land were holding sangria and sombrero parties as those left behind refused to be left out.
