The seventies, for most were a time when taste went out a window that had curtains that would give you a migraine. It was a time when the city of Glasgow looked manky and the old Tenements were black with soot. I on the other hand was having a ball, we had, at last managed to stop Celtics monotonous collection of titles and I was on an even keel weight wise of about 27 stone! I had one major problem…well two major problems, one was that I couldn't get a game for the Scotland first team and the other was a perm that you could lose a giraffe in. Don't get me wrong, I was not alone in the old perm hell, most of the team had one and certainly all of my birds, which were legion. The worst I felt was during the 78 World Cup, where even after I scored a header that was the best, without a doubt, absolutely that has ever been scored I'm sure you will remember that I connected with the ball just outside the Victoria hospital at Battlefield Rest and the ball flew at Mach 4 into the net, deafening three thousand fans, downing a flock of seagulls and smashing thirty thousand windows before crashing into the net passed a transfixed goalie, whose name escapes me but I think he had a rather sporting trash.. I'm still paying the glaziers bill! So off we went and with Ally's Tartan Army, to Argentina and got a certain part of our under carriage parted. I never got a game, so every cloud eh? Pies were crap anaw.
I have never been a modest man, well with the rate I was putting the birds away not to mention the pies, why should I have been? You do the math. I was mates with Chick Young and I still thought Dougie Donnelly was a Clyde fan, so happy but totally naive, eh? Happy days or what? I was beginning to settle down and screw the nut and was only going out with fourteen birds at the same time, well you mature and stop acting like a wee boy don't you. Besides, the decision was force upon me as some of my harem started to develop a taste for the pies, so no can do love, hit the road and all that. At Rangers it was nip and tuck with Celtic and the refs were still trying their best for us, disallowing goals and awarding penalties, you know the sort of thing. Some things never change although I have to be honest and say it was getting harder for the brethren refs to do their duty, with the advent of SKY TV and all those cameras that show from hundreds of angles just how determined the Reffing community does its bit for the Gers cause. We don't get away with so much now but when it counts, when it's a 50/50 they never lets us down.
It was about this time that the health fascists started to get their act together and all this publicity that being a fatty was bad for you. Who's kidding who, I was the captain of Rangers and tipping the scales at 45 stone with a different bird every night. I was having and turning, into a ball! But what a ball, it was turning and swirling and flying and gorging and bouncing and blootering and swerving…….and lobbing. Yes it was a crazy time with crazy gear and even crazier hair. Some people look back at the seventies with a sense of shame , not me, it was a time of great gear, flares, tank tops, platforms, perms and tashes and the men were just the same!!!
As that decade drew to a close, it did so with a terrible game for me, the rangers and all bluenoses. Yes the 4-2 game, the greatest game ever if you believe the Celtic fans, but one, I'm glad to say, thanks to our blue nose friends in the media, and by god there are many, lets face it there's only a few token Tims, Pat Nevin being this decades version of David Steel puppet out of Spitting Image. Yes the bluenoses in the TV managed to have a strike after the game that meant that the footage was lost. As was the game for us as Celtic, unbelievably won 4-2 with ten men. The ref even sent off Johnny Doyle but they won in the end. Just goes to show that with the press, the TV, the refs and the Gers up against you it is still possible for Celtic to win.
Must try harder.
I look back at my perm, Norries pies and the birds from every Rangers pub in Scotland and there was never a year of discontent for me, no, a year maybe of wearing discontinued lines of gear, but the gravy was flowing, the kipper ties were fluttering in the breeze and up to my knees in………………pies.
Tomorrow. The 80's, My New Romantic Secret, Maggie and Me, Birds with Big Hair and Pies!