To help with security a couple of lads stayed on the premises overnight. I headed home via the supermarket to pick up some groceries. Just as I was heading for the check out my phone rang. It was Kevin. I knew what he was going to ask. “Get some champagne” was the request.
I had thought of that myself earlier but put the idea out of my head. It was bad luck to tempt fate like that. Kevin’s optimism was unwavering though. He assured me that as Martin O’Neill and the players would not know that the NZCSC was buying champagne there would be no bad luck. I was not sure that fate worked like that but agreed to his wishes.
A short time later I was in bed and trying to get a good night’s sleep. I then realised that we had all been so busy worrying about getting the game on that I had hardly even thought about the actual match itself. What would the line-up be? How would we cope with the heat? Eventually I nodded off.
At 6am the alarm went off and I was up immediately. So too were Stephen and Sean. On a normal school morning it would be another hour or so before they would reluctantly get out of bed. Not today. 10 minutes later we were in the car and on our way across the city to Oratia. I reminded the boys that as soon as the final whistle blew we would head straight to the car and make our way as quickly as possible to their school at the edge of the city centre.
With decent traffic we should get there just after 9am – not too late for their classes. Both had their school uniforms on with Celtic tops over their shirts and Sean sporting a large sombrero on his head.
It was a dark May morning but soon we were in the lights of the Clubrooms. At the door Gavin Findlay and Scott Morland, resplendent in green wigs were taking the $25 admission. They told me that a couple of people had actually complained at the charge but in fairness they could not have known how much it had cost us to put it on and we could not exactly announce the details of our expenses.
Inside the first person I met was Angus Gillies with his TV crew.
The price for the assistance with the receiver unit was him being able to do a news item on the occasion. He had also offered his outside broadcast unit as a back-up should we have technical problems. A few guys were not so happy to see the cameras. Not everyone had arranged time off work legitimately!
Around 180 were in the hall including about half a dozen Portuguese fans. The atmosphere was a mixture of tension, apprehension and yet happiness that we were part of the worldwide Celtic family. I said a few words of welcome using my rusty Spanish in recognition of the Final venue and then made my way to a good vantage point. The bulk of the crowd, including Stephen, were in the main hall but along with a few others Sean and I made our way up to the mezzanine floor. A few moments later all eyes were on the big screen and as the teams come out we roared in unison with thousands of other Celtic fans around the world.
Once the game was underway all the previous weeks concerns were forgotten and I could concentrate on the game like everyone else. At half time I reflected with Scott Young who had driven the 130 kilometres up from Hamilton that morning. The journey was for a large part through the fog alongside the Waikato River but he was determined not to miss this game. Like a few others he was born in New Zealand but had Scottish parents and his grandfather, a miner, had known Jock Stein. He was as steeped in Celtic as someone from the Gorbals.
Not long into the second half of course Celtic scored, Henrik Larsson’s header equalising Porto’s first half counter. The hall erupted. I watched Sean dance animatedly with sheer delight on his face. At that moment any regrets I still had about not actually getting to Seville vanished. I would not have wanted to have missed the chance to celebrate with my own, as well as, the Celtic family.
Emotions were high as the game went into extra time.
Stephen and Sean also had the concern that we might have to leave after 90 minutes to get to school. But there was no way that was going to happen that day. Of course it did end in disappointment. Bobo Balde’s sending off seemed to subdue the crowd and it was just not to be. As the final whistle sounded there was a short burst of applause at what had been achieved but also a feeling of being so close.
The crowd started to drift away. As the Oratia Club could not get a license the Newmarket RSA had agreed to open as soon as the game finished. Most fans began to head there. Others still had work commitments.
Stevie Deacon and David Hepburn had been up since 4am to drive down from Whangarei with a couple of other Northland based fans. For them it was straight back up the road for an afternoon shift. I at last got the two boys to school. It was so late now that there was no chance that a “the bus was late, Sir” excuse was going to work. I took a piece of paper and wrote on it “Please excuse Stephen and Sean’s late arrival due to family commitments” It was the most appropriate thing I could think of!
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