On This Date In History (Ferrero Roche)

[Seven Tattoos]

Twenty-two years ago today: Saturday 15 September 1984, Hibs 2-3 Dumbarton. Not a particularly memorable game in terms of its scoreline but a significant match in that it simultaneously witnessed Mickey Weir's league debut (he'd played in a very young team in a league cup sectional game - won 3-1 - the previous autumn) and what proved to be King Pat Stanton's last ever match as manager of Hibernian FC.

Hibs went into the game bottom of the league, I was the only Hibbie at my school (Strathaven Academy, full of traditional working-class Billy Boys and middle-class glory hunting sheep shaggers, there weren't many Motherwell or Accies afficionados and most green grapes in the town went to Holy Cross) and at Games the previous day one fanny in my year amused the baying throng of retards by dryly remarking that 'you get a game for Hibs if you go up to Pat Stanton on a Friday night and ask for one'. Ooooooooooohhhhhhhhh, the banter. An youse guys wonder how I hate huns mair than jambos? It's not uncommon if you grow up on the west coast, these kantz hate us.

That morning's Daily Express (yes, ma Dad's a Tory!) had an article introducing Michael Weir to the premier league. He was described as being a wee guy but 'having a heart the size of a bucket' by manager Stanton and I think we'd all agree that the legend was spot on. About another guy who would become a Hibbie legend. After all, we are referring to the guy who would be immortalised in Absolutely with Jack Docherty's McGlashan character insisting that there should be a job created called 'the best bloke in the world' and that everyone at Parliament would have to get up and stand and sing:
HE'S THERE
HE'S THERE
HE'S EVERY PHUCKIN WHERE
MICKEY WEIR
MICKEY WEIR
And that's what this country's aw aboot! (As an aside, years later at a Glasgow branch meeting somebody - I think it was Bill - told me about about a boozy night at Kevin's when they watched a home made video of about 101 Hibs goals and in the middle of the tape that sketch from Absolutely was played. I phuckin p!ssed masel laughin!).

I wasn't at the game, I had yet to attend my first match at Easter Road. But I had a 'MY TEAM'S PERFORMANCE CHART 1984-85' poster on my bedroom wall. It came free with Roy of the Rovers. Going into this match Ralph Callachan was our top scorer with two goals!

I saw the half-times on Grandstand: Hibernian 1-3 Dumbarton! Bobby Thomson had put us a goal up after quarter of an hour and then the Sons struck three times in twelve minutes, one a penalty and I'm sure all three were scored by Owen's elder brothers, Joe and Tom Coyle. Having attended the Scotland - Yugoslavia match mid-week (we came from behind to lead 3-1 at the interval, eventually winning 6-1) I in my pre-narcotic paranoid state (oh, I was like this years before I first developed a taste for amphetamine) was convinced the Hibs would lose 6-1! It was not much of a relief that Kano's goal two minutes from time merely halved the deficit. I knew I was gonnae get slagged on the Monday.

Four league defeats in a row and bottom of the table. hertz lost 1-0 at Parkheed with Brian Whittaker getting sent off five minutes after coming on and the sheep and the huns fought out a goalless draw.

It was announced on Scotsport that late Sunday afternoon of 16 September that Pat Stanton had resigned and I just recall my old man saying in a shocked, disappointed tone 'losing at home to Dumbarton, so he bloody should'!

Sixteen years ago today: Saturday 15 September 1990, Hibs 0-3 hertz. The big one, the first opportunity to go out and show the world what the Hibs are made of. That we deserved to remain a separate entity, that we were offended by his asset-stripping intentions and his nauseating Goebbels style manipulating of the then Scottish fitba press, that we wanted to avenge Mercer. It proved to be otherwise. If only our team had demonstrated the same passion as our casuals that day.

My all time biggest disappoinment in a derby was the Wayne Foster game, followed by last season's semi, followed by this. And like last season's cup semi, we came up from Wales for this. Like last season's cup semi, we (my Dad, my brother and myself) felt we had to be there. Had to be there because we hoped to witness a famous Hibs victory. It's the hope that drives supporters on, that gives people, who spend the rest of their life worrying about the rent or the mortgage, about the council tax, about the bills, about putting food on the table and their family's health and maybe enough money for a pint or two, some joy in their life. Football is a fulfilling interest. He never understood that. We were going to show him. Weren't we?

We got up at 5am and the car journey was characterised by the usual petty squabbles over musical taste; father being a Radio 2 listener and possibly Buddy Holly's number one fan didn't really want to listen to either the Dead Kennedys or the Pixies, my faves at the time. After stopping at Moffat we eventually got parked somewhere int he vicinity of the ground and made it in about ten to three.

The atmosphere was E-V-I-L. Not before, or since, have I attended a Hibs-hertz game with as much hatred pouring from the sky. It was as if the entire Hibernian Family had been taking jellies and drinkin Buckie and wanted a square-go with anyone different. The stage was set for 'an almighty pagger'. Aidan Smith used that phrase years later (in a Scotsman article on Sat 5 Jan 02) referring the scenes after Ally MacLeod's late, late equaliser at Swinie in August 1978 (50 arrests, 113 ejections and I think one guy got 6 months for attacking Mike McDonald - Gunner please confirm). And when I worked at the Holyrood Sh!tehoose (that supports hertz) I used to see Aidan in the canteen and he told me about this first post-merger derby and how he was an EEN reporter at the time and he had to cover the game from the terraces and how horrible an atmosphere he thought it was.

The first chant we heard was 'Mercer Must Die' (well on 18 Jan this year he did and I shed no tears for anyone who tries to destroy the most important thing in my life after my family, in fact, given the fact I wouldnae be a Hibbie were my Dad not one I regard Hibernian FC as part of my family) and the afternoon would hear refrains of 'Mercer's a Shiter' and 'You're Gonnae Get Your Phuckin Heads Kicked In'.

The chant about Mercer's cowardice was literally true. Despite all his typical bluster about being 'first off the bus' he relented on polis advice (the CCS were gonnae attack him in the stand, I'd've paid serious bucks to have watched that). However, if anything his non-appearance made things worse, anything maroon was a target.

There hadn't been much in it but after 12 minutes or so Robertson crossed from the left at the Dunbar End and the ball took a wicked deflection off Pat McGinlay and went in. Robertson, understandably, was elated and ran to the bottom corner, near the segregation fence. A Hibbie all dressed in pale blue ran on and punched him and a fat Jambo, complete with bar scarf, ran on to punch the Hibbie! Pandemonium! Were it not for the intervention of Andy Goram things could have been far worse. However, more and more Hibs Boys were either on the pitch or causing the polis sufficient problems that the referee elected to stop the match and the players were taken from the field for about ten minutes. I'll always recall how the polis announcer on the tannoy sounded like he was shiting it as he announced if the trouble didn't stop then the match would not continue.

After the match hertz got a second and when Craig Levein scored with a strange goal (a header from the edge of the box following a corner that wasn't cleared properly) just before half-time the game was over.

Half-time witnessed a repeat of the high jinks of earlier on and so we head an extended break. We were standing right up the back of the terracin and I'll recall how a lassie managed to get over the fence on the pitch at half-time. She looked absolutely reekin and as if she had fallen awkwardly and injured herself as she fell over, she then stood up and smiled manically, presumably to her mates on the crowd. She was then swiftly huckled for her troubles.

The second half was a non-event. It was just a prelude to what was, presumably, a night of violence in Leith and Edinburgh. Chants of 'You're Going To Get Your Phuckin Heads Kicked In' punctuated the depressing spectacle of watching one of Hibs' most disappointing performances and results ever. The only highlight, for me and my bro, was one of the nutters next to us shouting 'here comes Walter 'old bastard, fanny-breath' Kidd when the first captain ever to be sent off in a cup final made an appearance.

Hearing those kantz chanting 'There's Only One Wallace Mercer' at full-time sickened me. There was only one Wallace Mercer would be more factual. What goes around, comes around.

Fourteen years ago today, Tuesday 15 September 1992, Hibs 2-2 Anderlecht. This was the first ever European tie either me or my brother had attended (we were still living in Wales in 89) and so was eagerly anticipated. We'd won 3-2 at Parkheed on the Saturday in an absolutely epic game (years later at Scottish Widows whenever I passed Gareth Evans on the stairs I always wanted to gie him a big hug for that late goal!) and so went into the match on a high.

Unbelievably, Dave Beaumont put us a goal up after just four minutes! The atmosphere had been incredible pre-match and now it was just crazy! The terracin was absolutely rammed and we were squashed in down the front near the 18 yard box going down the slope. We hadn't had a good view of the goal!

Degries equalised with a softish penalty just before the break and porn star Van Vossen (that mullet, that tash, I was expecting him to have bumsex with one of the girls in the pie stall!) put them 2-1 up with a breakaway goal in the second half. This was where Hibs showed their mettle, even after having Mickey Weir sent off we equalised with a Pat McGinlay goal and I'm sure we had the ball over the line again but the ref ruled that the whole ball hadn't crossed.

What a night! The game wasn't dead at 2-2 but it would be tough in the land of Belgian chocolates.

Years later Alan Craven would go out with a lassie whose faither (George) was British Consulate in Belgium. Cue loads of shite jokes about 'the ambassador's reception, you are spoiling us'!

[Hampden_Hibby]

Originally Posted by Seven Tattoos

(As an aside, years later at a Glasgow branch meeting somebody - I think it was Bill - told me about about a boozy night at Kevin's when they watched a home made video of about 101 Hibs goals and in the middle of the tape that sketch from Absolutely was played. I phuckin p!ssed masel laughin!).

101 goals! More like 301 Scott! I've still got that tape with the McGlashan bit in the middle. It's even got the two TV adverts Hibs released for the share buy out under Duff and Gray voiced over by Ian St John - remember them?

That Mickey Weir debut in the League Cup, I was at that game against Airdrie at Broomfield. Mickey looked about 12. If I remember right most of the team were from the reserve side who had hammered Aberdeen reserves something like 6-1 the previous Saturday.

In the League Cup group the game before the Airdrie one we'd lost to Killie at Rugby Park (30th November 1983 maybe?) in the smallest Hibs crowd I've ever stood in including the friendly in Seville 3 years later. Think I counted about 25 Hibs supporters on the main terracing on a freezing cold night.

[Seven Tattoos]

Kevin - was that Airdrie not the night that Stuart Main kept shouting that the Airdrie keeper was shite and should be replaced by (name eludes me) somebody he knew/worked with/whatever and the Airdrie keeper asked him if he was mates with the guy? I'm sure Jack Glancy told me a story about something like that from that era.

I may, of course, just be going mad.

Met the old girl for lunch and had two pints over a fine Mexican wrap meal. Feckin hate workin on a Friday afternoon after the boozer at lunchtime!

Nevermind, it's my pal Mary's leavin do tonight and ye can still smoke in the boozer in Wales!

[wehateharry]

Originally Posted by Seven Tattoos

Twenty-two years ago today: Saturday 15 September 1984, Hibs 2-3 Dumbarton. Not a particularly memorable game in terms of its scoreline but a significant match in that it simultaneously witnessed Mickey Weir's league debut (he'd played in a very young team in a league cup sectional game - won 3-1 - the previous autumn) and what proved to be King Pat Stanton's last ever match as manager of Hibernian FC.

Hibs went into the game bottom of the league, I was the only Hibbie at my school (Strathaven Academy, full of traditional working-class Billy Boys and middle-class glory hunting sheep shaggers, there weren't many Motherwell or Accies afficionados and most green grapes in the town went to Holy Cross) and at Games the previous day one fanny in my year amused the baying throng of retards by dryly remarking that 'you get a game for Hibs if you go up to Pat Stanton on a Friday night and ask for one'. Ooooooooooohhhhhhhhh, the banter. An youse guys wonder how I hate huns mair than jambos? It's not uncommon if you grow up on the west coast, these kantz hate us.

That morning's Daily Express (yes, ma Dad's a Tory!) had an article introducing Michael Weir to the premier league. He was described as being a wee guy but 'having a heart the size of a bucket' by manager Stanton and I think we'd all agree that the legend was spot on. About another guy who would become a Hibbie legend. After all, we are referring to the guy who would be immortalised in Absolutely with Jack Docherty's McGlashan character insisting that there should be a job created called 'the best bloke in the world' and that everyone at Parliament would have to get up and stand and sing:
HE'S THERE
HE'S THERE
HE'S EVERY PHUCKIN WHERE
MICKEY WEIR
MICKEY WEIR
And that's what this country's aw aboot! (As an aside, years later at a Glasgow branch meeting somebody - I think it was Bill - told me about about a boozy night at Kevin's when they watched a home made video of about 101 Hibs goals and in the middle of the tape that sketch from Absolutely was played. I phuckin p!ssed masel laughin!).

I wasn't at the game, I had yet to attend my first match at Easter Road. But I had a 'MY TEAM'S PERFORMANCE CHART 1984-85' poster on my bedroom wall. It came free with Roy of the Rovers. Going into this match Ralph Callachan was our top scorer with two goals!

I saw the half-times on Grandstand: Hibernian 1-3 Dumbarton! Bobby Thomson had put us a goal up after quarter of an hour and then the Sons struck three times in twelve minutes, one a penalty and I'm sure all three were scored by Owen's elder brothers, Joe and Tom Coyle. Having attended the Scotland - Yugoslavia match mid-week (we came from behind to lead 3-1 at the interval, eventually winning 6-1) I in my pre-narcotic paranoid state (oh, I was like this years before I first developed a taste for amphetamine) was convinced the Hibs would lose 6-1! It was not much of a relief that Kano's goal two minutes from time merely halved the deficit. I knew I was gonnae get slagged on the Monday.

Four league defeats in a row and bottom of the table. hertz lost 1-0 at Parkheed with Brian Whittaker getting sent off five minutes after coming on and the sheep and the huns fought out a goalless draw.

It was announced on Scotsport that late Sunday afternoon of 16 September that Pat Stanton had resigned and I just recall my old man saying in a shocked, disappointed tone 'losing at home to Dumbarton, so he bloody should'!

Sixteen years ago today: Saturday 15 September 1990, Hibs 0-3 hertz. The big one, the first opportunity to go out and show the world what the Hibs are made of. That we deserved to remain a separate entity, that we were offended by his asset-stripping intentions and his nauseating Goebbels style manipulating of the then Scottish fitba press, that we wanted to avenge Mercer. It proved to be otherwise. If only our team had demonstrated the same passion as our casuals that day.

My all time biggest disappoinment in a derby was the Wayne Foster game, followed by last season's semi, followed by this. And like last season's cup semi, we came up from Wales for this. Like last season's cup semi, we (my Dad, my brother and myself) felt we had to be there. Had to be there because we hoped to witness a famous Hibs victory. It's the hope that drives supporters on, that gives people, who spend the rest of their life worrying about the rent or the mortgage, about the council tax, about the bills, about putting food on the table and their family's health and maybe enough money for a pint or two, some joy in their life. Football is a fulfilling interest. He never understood that. We were going to show him. Weren't we?

We got up at 5am and the car journey was characterised by the usual petty squabbles over musical taste; father being a Radio 2 listener and possibly Buddy Holly's number one fan didn't really want to listen to either the Dead Kennedys or the Pixies, my faves at the time. After stopping at Moffat we eventually got parked somewhere int he vicinity of the ground and made it in about ten to three.

The atmosphere was E-V-I-L. Not before, or since, have I attended a Hibs-hertz game with as much hatred pouring from the sky. It was as if the entire Hibernian Family had been taking jellies and drinkin Buckie and wanted a square-go with anyone different. The stage was set for 'an almighty pagger'. Aidan Smith used that phrase years later (in a Scotsman article on Sat 5 Jan 02) referring the scenes after Ally MacLeod's late, late equaliser at Swinie in August 1978 (50 arrests, 113 ejections and I think one guy got 6 months for attacking Mike McDonald - Gunner please confirm). And when I worked at the Holyrood Sh!tehoose (that supports hertz) I used to see Aidan in the canteen and he told me about this first post-merger derby and how he was an EEN reporter at the time and he had to cover the game from the terraces and how horrible an atmosphere he thought it was.

The first chant we heard was 'Mercer Must Die' (well on 18 Jan this year he did and I shed no tears for anyone who tries to destroy the most important thing in my life after my family, in fact, given the fact I wouldnae be a Hibbie were my Dad not one I regard Hibernian FC as part of my family) and the afternoon would hear refrains of 'Mercer's a Shiter' and 'You're Gonnae Get Your Phuckin Heads Kicked In'.

The chant about Mercer's cowardice was literally true. Despite all his typical bluster about being 'first off the bus' he relented on polis advice (the CCS were gonnae attack him in the stand, I'd've paid serious bucks to have watched that). However, if anything his non-appearance made things worse, anything maroon was a target.

There hadn't been much in it but after 12 minutes or so Robertson crossed from the left at the Dunbar End and the ball took a wicked deflection off Pat McGinlay and went in. Robertson, understandably, was elated and ran to the bottom corner, near the segregation fence. A Hibbie all dressed in pale blue ran on and punched him and a fat Jambo, complete with bar scarf, ran on to punch the Hibbie! Pandemonium! Were it not for the intervention of Andy Goram things could have been far worse. However, more and more Hibs Boys were either on the pitch or causing the polis sufficient problems that the referee elected to stop the match and the players were taken from the field for about ten minutes. I'll always recall how the polis announcer on the tannoy sounded like he was shiting it as he announced if the trouble didn't stop then the match would not continue.

After the match hertz got a second and when Craig Levein scored with a strange goal (a header from the edge of the box following a corner that wasn't cleared properly) just before half-time the game was over.

Half-time witnessed a repeat of the high jinks of earlier on and so we head an extended break. We were standing right up the back of the terracin and I'll recall how a lassie managed to get over the fence on the pitch at half-time. She looked absolutely reekin and as if she had fallen awkwardly and injured herself as she fell over, she then stood up and smiled manically, presumably to her mates on the crowd. She was then swiftly huckled for her troubles.

The second half was a non-event. It was just a prelude to what was, presumably, a night of violence in Leith and Edinburgh. Chants of 'You're Going To Get Your Phuckin Heads Kicked In' punctuated the depressing spectacle of watching one of Hibs' most disappointing performances and results ever. The only highlight, for me and my bro, was one of the nutters next to us shouting 'here comes Walter 'old bastard, fanny-breath' Kidd when the first captain ever to be sent off in a cup final made an appearance.

Hearing those kantz chanting 'There's Only One Wallace Mercer' at full-time sickened me. There was only one Wallace Mercer would be more factual. What goes around, comes around.

Fourteen years ago today, Tuesday 15 September 1992, Hibs 2-2 Anderlecht. This was the first ever European tie either me or my brother had attended (we were still living in Wales in 89) and so was eagerly anticipated. We'd won 3-2 at Parkheed on the Saturday in an absolutely epic game (years later at Scottish Widows whenever I passed Gareth Evans on the stairs I always wanted to gie him a big hug for that late goal!) and so went into the match on a high.

Unbelievably, Dave Beaumont put us a goal up after just four minutes! The atmosphere had been incredible pre-match and now it was just crazy! The terracin was absolutely rammed and we were squashed in down the front near the 18 yard box going down the slope. We hadn't had a good view of the goal!

Degries equalised with a softish penalty just before the break and porn star Van Vossen (that mullet, that tash, I was expecting him to have bumsex with one of the girls in the pie stall!) put them 2-1 up with a breakaway goal in the second half. This was where Hibs showed their mettle, even after having Mickey Weir sent off we equalised with a Pat McGinlay goal and I'm sure we had the ball over the line again but the ref ruled that the whole ball hadn't crossed.

What a night! The game wasn't dead at 2-2 but it would be tough in the land of Belgian chocolates.

Years later Alan Craven would go out with a lassie whose faither (George) was British Consulate in Belgium. Cue loads of shite jokes about 'the ambassador's reception, you are spoiling us'!

Fucking quality as usual mate,If I had a hat I would take it of to you.

[PaddyBarry]

Originally Posted by Hampden_Hibby

101 goals! More like 301 Scott! I've still got that tape with the McGlashan bit in the middle. It's even got the two TV adverts Hibs released for the share buy out under Duff and Gray voiced over by Ian St John - remember them?

That Mickey Weir debut in the League Cup, I was at that game against Airdrie at Broomfield. Mickey looked about 12. If I remember right most of the team were from the reserve side who had hammered Aberdeen reserves something like 6-1 the previous Saturday.

In the League Cup group the game before the Airdrie one we'd lost to Killie at Rugby Park (30th November 1983 maybe?) in the smallest Hibs crowd I've ever stood in including the friendly in Seville 3 years later. Think I counted about 25 Hibs supporters on the main terracing on a freezing cold night.

You saw Hibs in Seville?! Really? Would like to hear more about that (I went there this summer).

P

[PaddyBarry]

Interesting.

That match against Hearts at ER in 1990 was my first as a ballboy. It was unbelievably scary for a 12 year old lad, as dozens of folk tried to pile onto the pitch/fight the police RIGHT BEHIND ME. My Dad and bro were in the old Centre Stand and they mentioned that it was kicking off left right and centre in there as the great and the good of the Hibs community argued with Jambos and each other.

The Anderlecht game of 1992 vintage was Ian Murray's first as a ballboy aswell, IIRC his bro was busy and couldn't make it and sent IM along in his place.

So there you go.

[Jamesie]

Originally Posted by Seven Tattoos

Half-time witnessed a repeat of the high jinks of earlier on and so we head an extended break. We were standing right up the back of the terracin and I'll recall how a lassie managed to get over the fence on the pitch at half-time. She looked absolutely reekin and as if she had fallen awkwardly and injured herself as she fell over, she then stood up and smiled manically, presumably to her mates on the crowd. She was then swiftly huckled for her troubles.

I was talking about this a wee while ago on here. I´m certain the stadium announcer said "get her in and get her stripped", obviously to try and take some of the poison out of the air with some humour, but no-one else seems to remember this! Obviously he´d be sacked for that nowadays...

[SuffolkHibee]

Remember the feeling beforehand of determination to hammer them as retribution for the summers shenanigans. Remember the first goal, Robbo right in front of us fires in a cross and Pat deflects it in at the near post, then Robbo giving the GIRFUY to us in the East Terracing. With the atmosphere that day it must rank as the stupidest act I've ever seen from a professional footballer. I'm a pacifist (okay, shiting **** more like) and I wanted to pile on and batter him. Can't remember the other goals, just an unpleasant memory of a Hibs team utterly lacking in fight and a second half when the players all just went through the motions. That and a feeling of total dejection at the end. This was my lowest moment as a Hibs fan. Worse than Foster's cup tie or last seasons semi.

[gandhi]

Originally Posted by Seven Tattoos

Years later Alan Craven would go out with a lassie whose faither (George) was British Consulate in Belgium. Cue loads of shite jokes about 'the ambassador's reception, you are spoiling us'!

My good and kind Mr Seven is there no depths to which the good Mr Craven will not stoop to for an omnibus ride.




gandhi

[Hampden_Hibby]

Originally Posted by PaddyBarry

You saw Hibs in Seville?! Really? Would like to hear more about that (I went there this summer).

P

Aye those were the days before cheap flights right enough. About 30 odd Hibbies made a week of it in Malaga if I remember correctly. Was anyone from the Bounce part of that group? The reason I ask is that a photograph of all the Hibbies there was taken in the stadium and I wouldn't mind seeing it again.

Myself and a fellow Glasgow Bouncer didn't want to miss a game so after a 0-0 draw with the Huns at Easter Road (Alex Miller's first game), we headed back to Glasgow for a serious Merrydown and vodka session then the overnight train to London.

Two and a half days, 6 trains, 3 undergrounds, 2 taxis and a Channel ferry later we were in Seville. Early December and it was roasting! Popped along to the Real Betis stadium (which has changed beyond all recognition) and took a few photos.

We stayed for the game then headed straight back, bypassing Glasgow and on to Pittodrie! That's the furthest I've ever travelled for an Premier league match!

Apart from the Malaga group, there were us two and at the game but we bumped into wee Michael McGee who had made his own way over from Edinburgh by train and boat so the three of us came back together.

Seville won the match 2-0 and here's their penalty (the only photo I took on my wee pishy ).....



The 8,000 crowd looked tiny in that stadium. We were all in the main stand as the Hibs directors had came out to the main entrance before the game and had given every Hibby a complimentary ticket.



For those with Spanish on the Bounce, here's a match report...

[Decal Joe]

Does anyone know the name of the guy who ran on and planted Robbo?

[PaddyBarry]

Originally Posted by Hampden_Hibby

Aye those were the days before cheap flights right enough. About 30 odd Hibbies made a week of it in Malaga if I remember correctly. Was anyone from the Bounce part of that group? The reason I ask is that a photograph of all the Hibbies there was taken in the stadium and I wouldn't mind seeing it again.

Myself and a fellow Glasgow Bouncer didn't want to miss a game so after a 0-0 draw with the Huns at Easter Road (Alex Miller's first game), we headed back to Glasgow for a serious Merrydown and vodka session then the overnight train to London.

Two and a half days, 6 trains, 3 undergrounds, 2 taxis and a Channel ferry later we were in Seville. Early December and it was roasting! Popped along to the Real Betis stadium (which has changed beyond all recognition) and took a few photos.

We stayed for the game then headed straight back, bypassing Glasgow and on to Pittodrie! That's the furthest I've ever travelled for an Premier league match!

Apart from the Malaga group, there were us two and at the game but we bumped into wee Michael McGee who had made his own way over from Edinburgh by train and boat so the three of us came back together.

Seville won the match 2-0 and here's their penalty (the only photo I took on my wee pishy ).....



The 8,000 crowd looked tiny in that stadium. We were all in the main stand as the Hibs directors had came out to the main entrance before the game and had given every Hibby a complimentary ticket.



For those with Spanish on the Bounce, here's a match report...

That's cracking mate- cheers! I stayed one night in a hotel right behind that stadium, got a couple of pics of it...

The other Glasgow Hibby wasn't Jack Glancy was it?

[Hampden_Hibby]

Originally Posted by PaddyBarry

That's cracking mate- cheers! I stayed one night in a hotel right behind that stadium, got a couple of pics of it...

The other Glasgow Hibby wasn't Jack Glancy was it?

No, it was one of the more 'shy' Glasgow boys.

Although when we got back to Aberdeen on the Saturday after Seville we had an after-match party in Stuart Main's Aberdeen flat where our Jack had a few beers whilst looking very 'eighties' and I've the pictures to prove it!

[Seven Tattoos]

iT WAS Ian was it no, Kevin?

Gandhi - Craven also rattled Sandy Jardine's daughter once; I'm no sure if there were bus shenanigans involved.

Can anyone else claim to have had 'relations' with a relation of the hertz management team that Saturday at Dens in 86?