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Arsenal to Andalucia
A Brief History of Bonnyrigg Celtic Supporters Club
Origins
There have been several Celtic Supporters Club’s leaving from or stopping at Bonnyrigg over the decades, including the Edinburgh and District for a number of years. The hub of the current group of members kicked off the specifically Bonnyrigg CSC in
1986 when they decided to hire a bus to go to Highbury for David O’Leary’s Testimonial. Having enjoyed themselves so much (nothing to do with the amount of drink which can be consumed on a coach trip to London pre A1 upgrade!), they decided to continue running buses to every Celtic game, and have managed to ensure representation at every Celtic match in the UK since, inclusive of friendlies where the first team was present. Indeed, Testimonials down south have been the cause of many a P45, divorce, etc. They decided to name the bus Bonnyrigg Peter Grant Celtic Supporters Club. In
1996, a proposal was put forward at the AGM to change the name to Bonnyrigg McNamara CSC, to recognise the connection between Jackie and the club, a fairly local lad with friends on the bus. There has of course been the usual internecine warfare you would expect at any CSC, but the hardcore group of fans remain.
The great occasions witnessed by members of the Bonnyrigg CSC include Love Street, the Centenary Double, the Return of Silverware versus Airdrie, the stopping of the Huns 10 in a row attempt, Martin’s Treble, our first foray into the Champions League, including the great victory in the Amsterdam Arena that got us there, and now of course that wonderful heart-breaking night in Seville. Of course, this passage of time also encompasses the lowest points of Celtic’s recent history. Living through the early 1990’s watching Celtic, watching the team lose to Raith Rovers in the Coca Cola Cup Final. But it’s these things which make nights experienced
recently, such as Blackburn, Liverpool, Boavista and the honourable Champione
League performances, all the sweeter.
But rather than eulogize the great Celtic teams of this period, or go into detail on any of the great games, I’ll stick to a history of Bonnyrigg CSC and it’s members. If you want to read about Celtic teams or great occasions there are a plethora of books and other websites available.
Moments
Whilst the games themselves are the focal point of all we do, there can be no
denying that the social side of things is really important to the members of Bonnyrigg CSC. With this in mind, a big thanks must go to Tam and all the staff at the Wattfield Bar in Carfin for their hospitality over the last few years. We are very grateful. But it tends to be away matches, whether domestic or European, which
provide the most entertaining trips.
We are very proud of our representation at European away matches and these trips have provided some of the more interesting moments in the buses history. On one memorable occasion in Lyon, several members were queued in a patisserie. One by one they approached the counter, “Je voudrais une baguette poullet” said the more adventurous, “Baguette poullet?” said those whose years of hardened drinking prevented them from remembering too much from their French class. Finally up stepped Kevin Gillespie. “Huv ye goat any mince pies?” he asked, in his
slowest, loudest tourist voice!
In fact, ordering food in a foreign country has provided many high points. Two others spring to mind. In Paris for the tie versus PSG, Eddie Kirkwood and John Quinn were in McDonald’s, with Edd having a difficult time
ordering due to the language barrier. Ten minutes later, he was furnished with the Big Mac, fries and Coke he craved. Then, having witnessed Edd’s troubles, Quinny stepped forward. “Ah’ll huv the same iz him, bit nae gerkhin’s or mustard or oany o that shite”.
And we must of course mention Seville. Whilst most of our troops decided to say at the pool of the Hotel Alcora and socialise with the likes of King Kenny and other notables, Mike, Ben, John and myself jumped straight in a taxi for the City Centre to soak up the atmosphere. Deciding it would be a good idea to get some food before the drinking commenced in earnest, we jumped into a wee
tapas bar. Mike, a regular visitor to Spain on business, had been demonstrating his linguistic skills the previous night in Madrid and seemed determined to be centre stage again. I decided I could manage fine by myself and requested an “Ensalada de pollo”. Mike then proceed to order three chicken curries and some chips to share between them, his Spanish accompanied by hand gestures et al. The girl seemed to be having difficulty and requested that some pointing was done with the menu. A short while later, my chicken salad was presented, followed by three plates of sausage egg and chips for my comrades. I can’t recall Mike speaking Spanish again!
Not that trips to the likes of Tannadice were ever mundane. I for one will never forget the day we stood in Dundee at half time, Tam Waterson and myself, going through the half time quiz. In the section
"Anagrams", which required us to identify four Italian teams, we had successfully negotiated the first three. VENTSUJU(Juventus), POILAN (Napoli) and CA LIMNA (AC Milan) wouldn’t tax most of us. Just then Wee Quinny (it’s that man again) leans across and decides he’s going to join in. So we go back to the start and go through each one with him again. “Juventus, yeah, yeah….” Etc. Reaching number four, we decide to let the wee man answer it.
“Z-O-I-L-A. Mmmm…… CHELSEA!”
We must of course mention our Neill Cameron. Between Neill and Kevin Gillespie, the amount of effort put in on behalf of Bonnyrigg’s Celtic fans is phenomenal, and greatly unappreciated. Neill can be an easy target, his various methods of procuring tickets resulting in
the nickname Cammy Two-Cheques! Of course, his belief that he could navigate his way to any stadium in Britain didn’t help. “Right here, then first right” he’d advise the driver, who would then wonder why the hell we were in Tesco’s car park.
It seems strange that I have come this far in recalling some of our adventures without mentioning Michael Osborne. Members reading this will already have started laughing, as they recall their favourite Ozzy moment. It really is the stuff legends are made of. Him waking up in the toilets of Kilsyth Club at 4 in the morning, and his recollections of falling about in the pitch black hall (he also had to pee were he stood, apologies to Kilsyth members) before escaping via the fire exit and setting the alarm off, is probably my pick.
Mind you, leaving a Stiff Little Fingers concert earl because he was minging,
asking a taxi driver to take him to Bonnyrigg, the being taking to the the polis
station when unable to pay with the 70p in his pocket is up there too. The fact
he had been taken to Bonnybridge and not Bonnyrigg as he'd asked didn't stop
them charging him! Must be a Hun toon.
Seville
At this point, I would like to take the opportunity to thank someone, a complete stranger whose name was never ascertained, for an act of honesty and kindness which restored my faith in Celtic fans, which had been dented somewhat by the fact that so-called Celts were happily selling UEFA Cup Final tickets to other fans at extortionate prices. Having flown in to Madrid and
taken the AVE to Seville, I disembarked to find my friend Jacqui Johnston, raking through her bag in a fashion which clearly meant she was in a state of panic. The look on her face when she looked up as I approached her simply confirmed what was beginning to dawn on me. She couldn’t find her ticket. As she dumped the contents of her bag onto the platform, with several other friends and I standing around, she explained that she had put it in her bra for safe keeping. Which got me thinking, I always had trouble undoing bra’s, as most other blokes do apparently, but would I be able to do it knowing there was a Final ticket inside? But I digress. As we stood on the platform, feeling genuinely sorry for our friend but not knowing what we could possibly do to help, a young Irish chap got off the train and walked over. “Lost your ticket?” he enquired. “I have, aye” Jacqui only just managed to reply, her bottom lip trembling furiously. “It wouldn’t be this one would it, I found it on the floor of the train?” Of course it was indeed Jacqui’s ticket. She tried to thank him at the time, but I don’t think she was able to communicate just how grateful she was. So on behalf of Jacqui and all the others at Bonnyrigg CSC, thank you. You know who you are, and if you’re ever in the Edinburgh area, be sure to let us know, I’m sure Jacqui would like to buy you a wee dram for your troubles.
Hail Hail
