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Uefa Cup 2008

J

johnnybluenose

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Since it is on FSW will the RSC's be open?

Does anyone know? (I'm speaking to Bucky, Guinness, Dancin Bear, RF, etc here...)
 
Guinness

Guinness

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Let's take over the sports bar on Granville (off Davie). They did a great showing of the Liverpool vs Chelsea match. I can't recall the name of it though.

Anyone in?
 
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Buckfast

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johnnybluenose said:
Since it is on FSW will the RSC's be open?

Does anyone know? (I'm speaking to Bucky, Guinness, Dancin Bear, RF, etc here...)
Click to expand...

The #1 has it on. I would expect the #2 would have it also.

I'm currently in the lounge, boarding in 35 minutes. Still can't believe I'm going. Getting my tickets have been a fiasco. Word from Glesga, tickets are going for 1500-2000 quid for Cat 3 seats. It's going to be a belter of an evening.

Orders so far:

Guinness - 25 pairs of Rangers' home socks for PAU Nation

Steve-o the Converted - "M" Rangers top. I need two more converts and I get a toaster oven from Minty. BTW, a fcuking "medium"? Someone buy this boy a sandwich/piece.

RF - 2 cases Tunnocks Caramel Wafer, 3 cases Jaffa Cakes (Orange), 30lbs square sausage, 2 cases Monster Munch Pickled Onion and 4 cases diet Irn Bru

Well done to the Teddy Bears today. Absolutely dominated them.

The Quad is on.............
 

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J

johnnybluenose

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Nevermind the above, too late to edit it.

Guinness and I are headed to Gsports on Granville off Davie.

RF has been contacted, will he make an appearance?
 
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johnnybluenose

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Cracking Article I am cross posting from a Gers Forum, have also forwarded to the wife ;)
Lost dreams come to life for Rangers fans
by Melanie Reid, the Rangers widow

When the Uefa Cup final kicks off, it is going to be a bit like that W. H. Auden poem that is so popular at funerals. Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone. Scotland will resemble some post-nuclear wasteland, with the tumbleweed blowing eerily along empty streets and the odd rabid dog scuttling for cover. Parked in back alleys, police cars and paramedics will sit, waiting, listening to the muffled heartbeat of the nation.

Don’t be frightened, too, if you feel the UK tip a little on its axis as the combined weight of so many Rangers fans leave Scotland and head for Manchester, and Land’s End dips a few feet into the water. This could be the biggest population exodus from the north since the troop trains left for France in 1914.

Do I exaggerate? Of course not. I am married to a fan. And all over the nation, us dutiful Rangers widows will huddle over our knitting, our hearts in our mouths, hoping for good news from the front line. This tournament feels as though it has lasted as long as a war.

We have endured the phone calls from the pub, telling us that — once again — the game has gone to extra time and penalties. We have seen our men — portly, middle-aged and eminently respectable — dancing round the living room to mark first the quarter-final, then the semi-final victories. We have listened to incoherent eulogies to Nacho Novo and David Weir and Carlos Cuéllar. Did we complain? Did we say “you’re gibbering, go to bed”? Never, not once.

The fact is, this final represents many things, and some of them are much bigger than football. Rangers Football Club stands in many ways for post-industrial Scotland itself: diminished but yearning for a return to the elitism and machismo that was once its by rights. This is about dreaming lost dreams.

Rangers was the club of the skilled shipyard workers on the Clyde at Govan. Thousands of men would charge from the gates of the yards, turning the pavements black. They worked long, physical hours and on Saturday came their reward, when they went to the pub at 11am, then poured into Ibrox, up to 100,000 of them, to cheer on their team.

The culture of this skilled, aspirational working class came to be that of the team. The shipyard workers were hard-working Protestants; members of the masonic lodge; and loyal unionists. Blue, red and white was not only the colour of the Rangers strip, it was also the colour of the union flag.

They were arrogant, these men, with a fantastic pride and belief in themselves. They knew that they ran the engine room of the Empire. They had that sense of being giants, of status, of possessing real economic clout. They wanted their team to win, and they usually did.

This social supremacy flowed in the veins of Bill Struth, the Rangers manager from 1920 to 1954. Struth insisted that his players turn up at their club wearing suits and bowler hats. In the visiting team’s dressing-room at Ibrox he famously had the hooks mounted high on the wall, so the opponents had to stand on the bench to hang up their jackets — and be instilled with fear of the giants they faced.

Senior policemen, civic leaders, politicians, businessmen, newspaper editors: all were keen to be part of the Rangers elite, creating a considerable powerbase by association in the West of Scotland. Vestiges of which linger, like the faint smell of wood polish in a dusty hall. There was a time when the club were one of the biggest in Britain, far richer and more powerful than Manchester United or Chelsea. But as Scotland declined and its industrial might withered, so, too, did Scottish football.

Rangers found themselves no longer so mighty. And the team and fan base that had travelled first class all their lives hated being in a second-class position.

You can play amateur psychologist — us Rangers wives have to — and wonder if this is why the fans are now some of the most demanding in the world. From the knuckle-draggers right up to the captains of commerce, it is as if received in their folk memory is the belief that their rightful place is at the top.

And now they are heady with a sense of pride that their team, under-resourced in comparison to other great teams, are punching way above their weight to reach the final.

Is it any wonder our husbands regress, filled with an almost childlike sense of joy and pride? To get to the final is enough to lay the ghost of those vanished glories. And if the team win? Well, they might just deserve to stay for that extra pint.
Click to expand...
 
steve1234

steve1234

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Buckfast said:
The #1 has it on. I would expect the #2 would have it also.

I'm currently in the lounge, boarding in 35 minutes. Still can't believe I'm going. Getting my tickets have been a fiasco. Word from Glesga, tickets are going for 1500-2000 quid for Cat 3 seats. It's going to be a belter of an evening.

Orders so far:

Guinness - 25 pairs of Rangers' home socks for PAU Nation

Steve-o the Converted - "M" Rangers top. I need two more converts and I get a toaster oven from Minty. BTW, a fcuking "medium"? Someone buy this boy a sandwich/piece.

RF - 2 cases Tunnocks Caramel Wafer, 3 cases Jaffa Cakes (Orange), 30lbs square sausage, 2 cases Monster Munch Pickled Onion and 4 cases diet Irn Bru

Well done to the Teddy Bears today. Absolutely dominated them.

The Quad is on.............
Click to expand...

Nice one...

I'd much rather have a few macaroon bars and some tablet.
 
Rangerforever

Rangerforever

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Guinness also wants some of that Irn Bru 32.
WAKEY WAKEY!
Better than that Beaver Buzz swill...:D

Oh, a 24 pack of Velvet would also come in handy Bucky.
Actually, some Bucky too Bucky...

Oh God, and yes, some fcuking Tablet.
Aaaaaaaaaarrrrrrggggggghhhhhh......
 
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