Moving to the states has really hit home how much I miss everything Celtic. I know I can watch the games on Celtic TV and in bars, but it’s so much more than just the games. Before I moved to Boston I was working in an Irish Bar. Luckily for me it was predominately Celtic fans. This meant when Celtic won a game, it was never a chore going to work. The reasons being: 1/. My manager let me have all Celtic games off because he knew I went. 2/. After the game, when I wanted to celebrate I was walking into the biggest mob of happy Celtic fans in Glasgow. Yeah I had to serve pints rather than consume them, but it was some atmosphere in there. Through the bar I met some of my best friends and would go to games with them, discuss the team and talk about how much we hate the Huns. It’s just something I can’t do out here.
Another thing I miss is going to Games with my dad. He took me to my first game when I was four years old. It was at MacDiarmid Park and Larrson scored the winner. Though the passion did not ignite from that age, it has become something that is a prominent part of my personality. Since then we have been all over the country watching the games, even venturing to Barcelona where we narrowly lost 2-1 with a Jordi Alba goal in the last minute. A Barcelona fan after actually said to me “this is just Barcelona” and at that time they were the best team in the world. We went on to beat them 2-1 at home the following month.
Nonetheless when my sisters stopped going due to family commitments and my brother because he moved away, it was just me and my dad. Even when I was studying in Glasgow we would meet at the games and have the craic. It is hard to hear when he tells me he doesn’t go to the games because he doesn’t like going on his own. In the least patronising way possible, enjoy these types of moments with your families, because you’re not always going to have them and wish you had made the most of them when you did. Not to worry though John Bhoy, I’ll be back in no time shouting in sync that the Huns are shite.
In summary I have missed Celtic a lot since moving to Boston so hopefully what I say next will come with a little less judgement. I was walking home from work one day and I saw a man stop his car to let me pass. It was pouring with rain and had my jacket covering my head. As I checked before I walked I noticed not only one Celtic top, but three sitting in the car. It was like seeing an oasis in the Sahara. So, the idiot that I am, stopped the car, signalled him to roll down his window and asked him *sigh* “are you a Celtic fan”. Yes he replied. He introduced himself as Finn and told me his family friends were over from Scotland (the other hoops fans). They had been watching the Astana game and then he was dropping them off at the Red Sox game. I asked him where he watched the matches and then we said our goodbyes. I swear I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face all day.
For the first game of the season we headed to the Banshee, the bar Finn had recommended. It was full of Celtic fans and despite the 7:30 am kick off, all had pints in hand. I felt at home. Finn proceeded to tell everyone the story and I’m pretty sure everyone in that place thinks I’m a complete moron, but nonetheless, it’s a great place to watch the game and hear the stories of all the Scotsmen who came to Boston on holiday and never left. 40 years later with accents that are untarnished. One guy, Peter from Coatbridge, nearly had me until he asked if I needed some money to sew up my ripped pants. Pants being my jeans. Bloody Americans ruining this good Scotsman! I’ve been to almost every game of the season at the Banshee since arriving in Boston, but when I head to New York I am hoping to watch the game at the New York Celtic Supporters club.
You can take the girl away from Celtic…
Thanks for reading!