Photo by Pascal Saez (c) EIBF

Special Day

Irvine Welsh

1991

It was a frozen day in March at Hampden Park, where I was heading to see Hibs play in the League Cup final. But I was coming from Miami, with a pair of sunglasses and a light t-shirt and jeans, and a plastic bag containing a thick fleece and jacket. I flew in Saturday night and was glad on the plastic bag and its contents when I disembarked on Sunday morning in Glasgow. I took a taxi into town. My UK mobile wasn't charged, so I had no way of contacting the boys on the bus coming through from Edinburgh.

It was a typical cold and driech winter Glasgow Sunday morning, and everything was shut. I had time to kill and decided that the best way to get re-orientated was to walk towards Hampden. I crossed the Clyde and headed south, stopping at a MacDonald's for the first time in years, drinking a coffee. It had started to snow heavily. I had just come from 90 degree heat and I was feeling the absence of every one of them. That sicky jetlagged feeling hit me hard; like being on drugs but without the buzz.

At 12.30 a pub close to the ground had opened its doors. I was in there for a just a few minutes when my pals Tam and Russell came in with their dad, uncle and some friends. The pub started to quickly fill up with Hibernian and Kilmarnock supporters. I got talking to some lads from Ayrshire - they were good guys and we had a drink and a sing-song together and wished each other all the best. My jetlag was starting to recede. Tam had his phone and I was able to rendevous with the rest of the boys outside the ground and pick up my precious match ticket.

The jetlag kicked in again with a vengence when I got inside the stadium, where 30,000 Hibs fans and 20,000 Killie supporters were creating an electric atmosphere. I felt a bit disconnected from everything and I suppose the drinks in the pub didn't help. But the fatigue left me in the second half as the goals started to fly in. As that half progressed it was evident that it was going to be Hibs day, but Kilmarnock fans continued to back their team. Personally, I never felt totally safe even at 3-1, you just don't when you follow Hibs, and I didn't relax till the other two goals hit the net. But we were treated to some great striking from Benji and Fletch, and 5-1 in a cup final is always a great result. While we deserved to win, the scoreline was a bit harsh on Killie, as it can be in cup finals when you just have to go for it if you're behind.

We watched the cup being presented, and people were singing but had that slightly out-of-it air of unreality, like it hadn't quite sunk in yet. Me perhaps more than most, with my head still in Miami. But I'd felt the same way back in 1991 when we beat Dunfermline and I was too young to remember that much detail about the 1972 win over Celtic, though I was there with my dad.

We sang our lungs out, Sunshine On Leith, then got on the bus back to the port. It was a brilliant atmosphere heading along the M8. Our great buddy Tich Grant had died suddenly and unexpectedly just a few weeks earlier and we had a banner in tribute to him. It was a great night back in Leith, but strange not to have the Wee Man there, and it was bitter-sweet thinking about him. This game started the cult of Tich's banner though - it's now been all over the world. I left the party at 5am and walked up Princes Street. I was planning to get an early morning train through to Glasgow but Waverley Station was locked up as it was still too early. I met a couple of boys who were finishing their shift as electricians and they very kindly gave me a lift back to Glasgow. I got the connecting flight to London then the transatlantic to Miami.

My friend Kenny was working over in Miami at the dance music festival and couldn't get back over for the game. With the time differences I was able to present him with the Scottish newspapers on Monday morning at Jerry's Famous Deli in Miami Beach. I didn't have any jet lag at all by this time, but I indulged in a large Bloody Mary to toast the League Cup win. It was a great Hibs team, brought on by Tony Mowbray, with the win executed by John Collins. We knew they would be breaking up soon, due to financial problems, but it was great that they won something for us before doing so.

An exhausting day, but one I'll always remember. Let's have another, please, Mixu.