Updated: Oct 30
Aldo wis never a supporter ae Leith Star and he wis never yin fur keepin his thoats oan the matter tae himsel. Then there wis me and Craig who huv followed thum religiously since we wur auld enough tae wipe oor ain erse. It didnae matter whether it wis pishin doon wae rain and no even the sight ae the four horsemen oan the horizon wid deter oor support fur the team. Nae doubt we wid still be there freezin oor baws off in the famous rid and white hoops ae the mighty Leith Star. Though that didnae stoap Aldo forever takin any opportunity he goat tae shite aw oor the team’s chances ae tastin victory.
‘’That shower ae useless shite’’ he wid often say. ‘’Ah’m fuckin tellin yae no yin ae they eleven fannies wid even make the bench fur The Edinburgh Athletic Wheelchair Team’’
You’ve goat tae remember, likes. His open contempt fur the club and its players wis alweys said within earshot ae the boays oan the team. Especially, since the majority ae thum are local lads and they wid spend their weekends boozin doon at The Spiders Web, jist like everyboady else. But when yur talent’s bein cawed intae question by a six-fit two, coked up, steroid induced mountain. Then understandably, eh? That initial urge tae react becomes somewhat diluted. Jist oan Wednesday passed, eh? ah wis roond at Craig’s flat tae sort oot numbers fur the supporter’s buses. Fur oor big trip oor tae face the mighty Bonnyrigg Rose in the Scottish Cup. This game is huge fur us, likes. As the winner gits Clyde at haime in the nixt roond. And no only that, but the match will be televised live oan BBC Alba.
Soon as we ironed oot the details fur the buses. That's when Aldo’s new foond love fur the team came up. Ah thoat this wid be a gid time tae git his thoats oan suttin that hus been nigglin awey at me lately. Everyboady kent this wisnae a love that wis gonnae stand the test ae time. But still, ah wise curious as tae what someboady else thoat.
‘’Craig’’ ah said. ‘’Kin ah ask yae suttin?’’
‘’Sure man, shoot?’’
‘’It’s jist, see how Aldo usually hates the Star sae much? Dae yae hink it's just he lacks a bit ae community spirit? Or is he just a cunt? ’’
Craig paused fur a bit before answerin and ah could tell he wis geein the question some serious consideration.
‘’Ah dunno, Dougie, man. Mean he did kick the shite oot ae Santa last year, eh?’’
Fur some unknown reason ah hud completely furgoat aboot this. It wis probably due tae the fact there’s been a thoosand incidents involvin Aldo since then.
‘’Aw, aye’’ ah telt him ‘’Refresh ma memory again? What wis that aw aboot?’’
‘’Suttin tae dae wae his HO,HO,HO bein too festive, mate’’
Ah jist stood there in the kitchen as ah tried tae process and understand why Aldo hud done what he did tae Santa. But nah, ah drew a blank. And ah couldnae quite git ma heid roond what hud happened.
‘’Too fuckin festive?" ah said "but it wis Christmas? ’’
‘’Aye, ah ken, man" Craig says, sympathetically "but then again, Dougie. Aldo is a Muslim’’
‘’Aye" ah said "Ah huv fuckin noticed. But yae say that as if it should aw make fuckin sense noo. What the fuck hus bein Muslim goat tae day wae anyhing though?’’
‘’Well" Craig explains "Tae Aldo, Santa’s jist some fat fuck in a rid suit, eh? And it didnae help that yin ae his runner’s hud been pinched wae two oonce ae Ching’’
That wis aw the info ah needed. Suddenly it aw made fuckin sense tae me. Aldo didnae spread Santa acroass the street cos he wis actin too festive, at aw. It coulda been anyboady, eh? he wis simply littin oaff a wee bit ae steam.
Ah mind the very moment Aldo went fae wishin a thoosand deaths oan The Stars players. Tae embracin thum as a bunch ae long loast brothers. Although he wid oaften deny it. Aw ae his initial negatively taewards them stemed face the failed trial he hud when he wis a bairn. But it took the win against BSc Glasgow fur aw they year’s ae ill will tae supposedly disappear.
Whether it’s a glorious victory or another hert breakin loass. Me and the rest ae the boays end up back at the Spiders Web. It’s a sortae tradition, Ken? And oan that particular day, aw the wey back fae Glasgow. Ah found massel dreamin ae the moment when ah'd set eyes oan Aldo. And the satisfaction and relish ah'd git in rubbin his puss in it. Ah made a conscious point ae gittin tae the boozer before everyboady else. Darted oaff the bus, so ah did, it wis practically a sprint. Ah wanted tae be the first cunt tae tell him aw aboot oor great triumph. Ah hud it aw planned oot in ma heid. Pure premeditated mind fuck. Make him hink the team hud went doon in calamity. Before ah revealed that we'd actually only gone and fuckin won. As soon as ah walked in a caught sight ae a familiar picture. Aldo proppes up against the bar. Whilst Auld Maggie wis stood behind it, busy pullin pints. The baith ae thum wur chattin awey tae each other and as soon as Aldo cloacked ma presence ah could tell ma depressed puss hud done jist the trick. Cos ah could see in his eyes and the wey he wis tryin no tae smirk that he wis jist readyin himsel tae start dishing oot his usual pish aboot how shite the team wur.
He wis stood there aw smug and proud ae himsel. And ah kent right there and then that ah hud him oan a string. He wis basically foamin at the mooth, eh? Salivatin at the mere prospect ae wipin his erse wae oor dreams and aspirations ae liftin the Scottish Cup.
‘’Loast did they?" He asked. Aw gleeful and confident that this wis jist another glorious failure fur the club. ‘’Useless Motherfuckers’’.
‘’Naw" ah telt him "We fuckin won!!’’ ah roared sae hard ma lungs felt as if they wur ready tae jist explode, there and then. Although this cunt still seemed unable tae accept ma gid news and didnae hink twice aboot expressin his doots
‘’Pish! ’’ he scoffed. ‘’ Fuck knows what yur smokin the day, Dougie. But be a pal and send some ma wey, eh? ’’
‘’Ah’m tellin yae, we won." ah telt him. " And if we beat Bonnyrigg Rose then the next yin will be televised here, live oan the BBC. They're gonnae be at the game, n aw. Tae talk tae some ae the supporters if we win’’
It wisnae until maire and maire boady’s started tae pile in the boozer and the choruses ae ‘’Wur gonnae win the Cup!’’ rang oot. That the cunt looked as if he believed ah wis tellin the truth. He did seem startled wae aw the noise and a bit overwhelmed wae the sea ae rid and white he wis now faced wae. As he turned and faced firmly in ma direction it wis clear tae me his mind wis gone intae overdrive. Processin the possibilities ae the nixt roond.
‘’The BBC yae say?’’ he asked. As his eyes began widening at the thoat ae gittin his five minutes ae fame oan the telly.
‘’Aye Aldo, its fuckin quality’’
‘’Sure is, Dougie son, sure is. Listen, ah’ve jist remembered ah’ve goat tae be somewhere’’ He shouted back at me as he made a hasty exit oot ae the pub withoot mutterin even as much as a ‘gidbye’.
A gid oor passed by and there wis still nae sign ae him. Then, jist as everycunt hud seemed tae huv settled down. In he comes, chairgin through the doors. As if he's John Wayne in yin ae those auld westerns who’s come tae save the toon fae destruction. It wisnae even his dramatic entrance that caught ma attention, either. It wis maire tae dae wae what he wis wearin. The cheeky bastard wis stood there, in centre ae the pub, dressed heid tae tae in the rid and white ae the mighty Star. Fuck knows where the cunt goat it fae, likes. But he even hud yin ae they big rid and white foam finger hings. Ken, like the yins yae see at American fitbaw games. Yae could huv heard a prin drop, ah'm tellin yae. Everyboady there seemed tae be frozen in a state ae shock. And the sense ae disbelief which contaminated the atmosphere grew stronger yince he began beltin oot the fans chant ae
‘’There’s only yin Leith Star!!’’
He went roond the hale room embracin anyboady he could find who wis also wearin a Leith Star strip. And he kept mutterin the same words, oor, and oor again ‘’Wur in this taegether, lads’’. Honestly, it wis fuckin ootrageous. And ah doot ah wisnae the only boay who wis observin him wae clenched fists. Fur we aw kent fine well what he wis up tae. Glory hunters are, efteraw, aw the same. Aldo wid only be aroond fur the gid times. He hud nae intention, whatsoever, in stickin aroond fur the bad.
The big match wae Bonnyrigg Rose hus seemed tae arrive in nae time. Three supporters buses left fae the Web at aroond quarter tae two. Bonnyrigg is a wee workin class toon oan the ootskirts ae Edinburgh. Ah’ve heard a lot ae stories aboot these Bonnyrigg cunts but ah try no tae listen tae that sortae hing. Better jist judge fur masel when we git there. The bus hus been rockin fae the moment we departed and it’s only comin up fur the back ae two and everycunt is either half cut or coked up. Or, in Aldo’s case, a deadly combination ae baith. Efter he seeminly tires himsel oot wae aw his signin and questionable chants. He decides tae join me and Craig at the back ae the bus.
‘’Yae seen that film Groundhog Day?’’ he asks us. Aw ootae breath and pishin wae sweat.
‘’Aye’’ Craig sais. ‘’Bill Murray’s in it?’’
‘’Aye, that’s right’’ sais Aldo, who seems tae appreciate Craig’s knowledge ae the film.
‘’Murray’s awrite’’ sais Craig
‘’Aye he is, but ah’m tryin tae make a point here. No discuss his fuckin actin credentials’’
‘’Aldo, calm doon man. Wur here tae enjoy oorsels’’ ah quickly remind him.
‘’Well’’ he sais. ‘’Ah wis watchin the hing oan the telly last night. And it goat me hinkin, eh? that boays like us are jist like him in the film. We wake up repeatin the same day. Oor and oor again. Wae the purpose ae makin some posh cunt rich’’.
‘’That’s an interestin wey ae lookin at it, man’’ ah tell him.
‘’It’s the only wey tae fuckin look at it. Listen, the opium ae these posh cunts is the blood, sweat and tears ae the workin class. And the opium ae the workin class is anyhin that blanks oot the realisation ae kennin wur a mere slave tae the capitalist machine’’
Ah never hud Aldo doon as nae Karl Marx. But ah’ve goat tae admit it. Fur yince he seems tae be talkin sense. And that's jist what's scarin the fuckin life ootae me. As he appears tae make himsel comfy oan the seat he gestures fur us baith tae come closer. Before uncharacteristicly whisperin
‘’Lads, ah’ve goat gid news. Ah’ve takin care ae it’’
‘’Takin care ae what?’’ ah ask him
‘’The fuckin match’’
Me and Craig gee each other a worried look. Efteraw, this is Aldo we’re dealin wae, and absolutely anyhing is possible.
Craig tries tae make a wee joke aboot the situation by indirectly askin him a serious question.
‘’Yae didnae kidnap Bonnyrigg’s managers wife or suttin, did yae?’’
‘’Tell me yae never, Aldo’’ ah plead wae him. Cos ah wisnae sure whether tae laugh or phone Justine fur an alibi.
‘’Of course, ah didnae kidnap the boays wife. Fur fuck sake, lads. What dae you pair ae miserable bastards take me fur?"
"okay" ah tell him ‘’So, what huv yae done then, exactly?’’
‘’You’ll see fur yursels during the match" he tells us " But trust me, you’ll no want tae miss this’’ as he hus a wee sinister laugh tae himsel.
Wae the colour fae Craigs puss quickly drainin awey and ma hert beginnin tae beat at an alarmin rate. It wis clear suttin wis tellin us baith that this is gontae be a long day. Regardless ae the actual result ae the match. We arrived at Bonnyrigg’s groond ‘New Dundas Park’ fur aroond quarter past two. The place wis situated behind some shitty lookin boozer cawed, ‘The Calderwood’. Jist as everyboady else oaff the bus makes their wey inside the stadium Aldo drags me and Craig inside the pub fur a wee pre-match pint. Fae how busy this shitehole is ah kin tell Bonnyrigg is oot in force tae cheer oan their team. Ah wis a bit hesitant aboot comin in here due tae the real possibility we might jist end up gittin oor heids tae play wae. Especially if Aldo decides tae cause yin ae his infamous scenes again. Fae the moment we walk in everyboady jist seems tae stoap what they're daein tae hae a gid look at us. Aldo scans the room and the first words oot ae his mooth dinnae endear us tae the natives
‘’Fuck me’’ he sais. ‘’The only hing worth pullin in here is a pint. Grab a seat lads, ah’ll git the beers in’’
He goes and makes his wey through the crowded pub and doesnae seem tae gee a fuck that he’s left us starin back at a room fullae pusses who look as if their ready tae reach fur the nearest pitchfork. Wuv only been in here fur nae maire than twinty seconds and Aldo’s awready pissed off maist the cunts in the room. Even as me and Craig hastily try and find an empty table ah kin feel aw they glarin eyes bearin doon oan us. Thankfully though, it’s no too long before ah cloack a few spare seats located near the karaoke machine. Me and Craig dart taewards them and wait fur Aldo tae return. The pair ae us hoapin tae fuck that nuttin kicks oaff. Cos ah widnae miss this match fur the birth ae ma firstborn. Five or so minutes later and he comes swagerrin along wae a welcomin sight ae three cauld beers in tow. No that either ae they two clowns are too bothered aboot a pint. The bastards dash tae the bog wae their big bag ae snow, leavin me aw oan ma lonesome. By the time they come the cloack doesnae seemed tae huv moved. And hings are aboot tae drag oan even maire. Ah notice a lassie standin at the Karaoke machine. She looks aboot oor age and even though she’s aw dolled up, the makeup clearly isnae workin. She soon starts tae belt oot a poor rendition ae Tina Turner’s ‘Simply The Best’ and ah kin tell wae the look oan his puss Aldo is jist waitin tae say suttin cheeky.
‘’Excuse me, pal?!’’ he shouts oor tae the barman, who is busy servin customers.
‘’Aye, what is it?’’ the boay sais, in an impatient sortae wey.
‘’Please, dinnae start anyhing in here, Aldo’’ ah whisper tae him.
Fae Craig’s nervous demeanour ah kin tell he’s as worried as me aboot where this conversation might end up. We’re no like Aldo, we’re actually proper Leith Star supporters and this game is a big deal fur us.
‘’Nuttin in particular, mate’’ Aldo tells the boay. ‘’It’s jist nice tae see yae gee yur local comedians a platform tae humiliate thumsels’’ as he nods in the direction ae the now mortified lassie who’d jist finished her song.
‘’That’s ma wife, yae cheeky cunt!’’ the boay snaps.
‘’So, yae love her anywey?’’ Aldo remarks ‘’ Then that makes you a better man than me’’
This boay seems ready tae explode. Yae kin jist tell by the wey his puss hus turned pure rid that he’s a tickin time bomb. Ah kin sense wae the tension fillin up in the room that wuv clearly oot steyed oor welcome. So, ah dually signal fur the the lads tae drink up and lits git the fuck ootae there. It’s no long before wuv legged it oor tae the shabby lookin stadium behind the boozer and joined up wae the rest ae Leith Star’s faithful. Straight awey ah kin see that baith clubs are well supported. Probably aloat tae dae wae the telly cameras but the atmosphere in here is definitely that ae a big cup tie. The three ae us are stood right behind Bonnyrigg’s goals and their keeper looks maire like a cannonbaw wae legs than an actual fitbaw player. As we stand there freezin oor baws oaff in anticipation ae the referee blowin his openin whistle. What Aldo hud said earlier aboot fixin the result, suddenly comes floodin back intae ma mind. He did, at that moment, appear tae be in his best behaviour, likes. But, still, ah couldnae help but be fixated oan what the cunt hud meant.
The game started jist like a typical cup tie. Neither team wantin tae gee anyhing awey early oan. It wis a pretty borin affair, ken? Cagey n that. That is until Alan Smith, oor midfield dynamo, ootae naewhere bursts straight through oan goal. But composure somehow evades that useless bastard and his weak effort trickles intae the keepers airms. Me and the rest ae oor support dinnae hud it too much against him though. Or at least, no voicing it openly, but no Aldo, he’s hellbent oan geein poor Alan a right piece ae his mind
‘’Ma Granny coulda hit that baw harder ya fat usless cunt, git yur erse in gear!!’’
Efter that wee hertless remark, ah kin see that the real Aldo wis startin tae bubble up tae the surface.
‘’Aldo, it’s still early days, man’’ ah tell him ‘’take it easy, will yae?’’
‘’Fuck that’’ he barks ‘’What ah telt you boays earlier, eh? That still stands. Ah’m winnin this match fur us’’
‘’Aye, what the fuck did you mean there, Aldo?’’ Craig asks, almost pleadin.
‘’Well, see uncle Fester oor there?’’ Aldo tells us, noaddin in the direction ae the plump, bald dafty, in the Bonnyrigg goals.
‘’Aye, what aboot him?’’ ah ask
‘’Well’’ he explains ‘’lits jist say he’s aboot tae hear a few haime truths’’
Ah’m intrigued by this comment and bein the nosy bastard that ah um, ah decide tae investigate further
‘’What dae yae mean by that, Aldo?’’
He glares at us baith. ‘’Ken Three finger Louie?’’
‘’Aye’’ ah sais. ‘’His sister’s a doactur?’’
‘’ That’s right. So yae ken the cunt?’’
‘’ Well, it wid be some fuckin coincidence if it wisnae him. Ah mean how many cunts steyin in Leith are cawed ‘three finger Louie?’’
‘’Ah alweys wondered why he’s cawed three finger Louie?’’ Craig gushes.
‘’Well, it’s cos he’s goat four fuckin fingers, ya thick cunt!!’’ bawls Aldo in a blind rage.
‘’So, what aboot Louie then?’’ ah ask.
‘’His cousins a private investigator and ah hired the boay tae dae some diggin intae these Bonnyrigg cunts. And that fanny oor their hus maire secrets than the royal faimily. Anywey, a grand well spent, ah thoat’’
‘’A grand? that’s very reasonable fur that sort ae hing. Ah alweys imagined it wid be dearer than that’’ sais Craig, who seemingly fails tae address the bigger question. Which is why hus this fuckin lunatic hired a PI in the first place’’.
‘’Ah thoatsae tae, a three wey split. It comes tae £349.48, caw it 350 fur cash’’ Aldo informs us.
‘’ Caw it fuck aw’’ ah snap at him. ‘’ That’s against the fuckin law. Yae kin git done fur that sortae hing. Invasion ae privacy, or some pish, they caw it’’
‘’Invasion ae privacy? Laughs Aldo. ‘’You’re precious Dougie, yae really are. When that cunt pit oan that jersey he became public property. Dae yae want tae win or no?’’
‘’Well, of course ah want tae fuckin win, Aldo. But this is some shameless pish’’
Hinkin Craig will back me up oan this, ah gee him a wee glance. Tae ma surprise though ah cannae see any looks ae disgust, but insteed, he hus this expression that sais ‘why no?’ plastered acroass his puss.
‘’Dougie, lit’s no be too hasty here, eh?’’ he tells me ‘’A win’s a win, who gees a fuck how we git it. Cannae dae any herm, kin it?’’
Ken, suttin? This cunt is actually makin sense fur yince. It’s no like playin by the rules hus goat me anywhere before. This win wid set the the club up fur a gid few years tae come. And lit’s be honest. Huvin morals isnae what it’s aw cracked up tae be. Yae jist end up gittin fucked. This is why ah’ve decided tae gee Aldo a wee nod oan the unsuspectin goalkeeper.
Aw Aldo does at the beginnin isnae exactly an act ae brutality. It’s aw mind games, eh? As he repeatedly roars in the keeper’s direction ‘’Pishwater! Pishwater!’’.
Before the boay’s defences finally relinquish and he snaps ‘’Ma name’s Westwater, ya cheeky cunt’’ clearly demonstratin that Aldo’s awready in his heid.
‘’ Nae worries, pishwater, you’re the boss, man’’ Aldo casually tells him.
And it’s pretty obvious that by the wey he’s twitchin inside the boax. That Aldo’s words are gittin maire and maire annoyin.
The game itsel hus started like a typical cup tie. Wae baith teams playin cautious. A quiet start that hus offered Aldo the opportunity tae step up his efforts tae brek this perr bastard.
‘’Oi, Pishwatrer, fae what ah wis telt. Accordin tae yur last medical. You’re only yin fish supper fae a hert attack, that right, aye?’’ then he produces a crisp new twinty quid note fae his poacket and begins tae gently wave it in the air ‘’Ah actually saw a nice wee chippy acroass the road fae the boozer cawed, Pias. Take this, eh? and tell Mr Pia he’s tae gee yae the greasiest supper he hus. Tell him its oan Aldo’’. Still though, this cunt seems tae surprisingly retain his composure. But it’s no escaped ma attention the colour ae his skin hus went fae milky white, tae pure beetroot. A fact which does nuttin except gee me hope that Aldo’s plan might actually work.
Ah’ll be the first tae admit it, likes. This game so far hus been nae ‘El Classico’ and Aldo will need tae pull suttin definitive oot ae the bag, sooner, rather than later. Especially since the keepers will change sides in the second half. And gone by the time oan ma watch suttin will need tae gee in the nixt twenty-five minutes. By the wey, Aldo’s personal attacks huv been gittin darker wae each passin minute. It’s pretty evident he’s cautious ae the time, tae. This fuckin lunatic hus went fae questionin the boay’s ‘true motives’ fur volunteerin tae coach bairns fitbaw. Tae implyin that his Victoria Cross winnin grandfaither wis actually a secret Nazi sympathiser. Yit the stubborn bastard still appears no quite ready tae bite back and by the wey Aldo’s pacin up and doon oan the side ae the pitch it’s clear he’s gittin agitated by the boay’s lack ae willingness no tae fold.
‘’Ah’m tired ae walkin oan eggshells wae this fanny’’ Aldo announces tae me and Craig. ‘’Time tae stoap bein merciful’’
‘’Eggshells?’’ ah giggle. ‘’Fur fuck sake, Aldo. Yae jist cawed him the Jimmy Savie ae Scottish fitbaw. Yae even tried tae pin an unsolved murder oan him fae five year ago. He’s no taken the bait, ah hink its oor noo’’.
Jist as the Star seem tae be buildin some momentum in the centre ae the park. It’s then that Aldo goes tae make yin last attempt tae git inside the keepers heid.
‘’Pishwater!’’ he begins yelling again. While the boay tries tae remain focused on Leith’s impendin attack.
‘’Ah wis sorry tae hear aboot yur daughter, Katie, is it?, Nae cunt imagines their wee lassie will grow up and sell their erse fur a poond ago tae dirty auld men. Jist fur a taste ae the broon stuff. Yae must be so proud, eh? fuckin Nickeledon’s faither ae the year, standin oor their’’.
Fuckin hell, man. Oor forward, Andy Peters, is straight through oan goal. And the daft cunt hus hit a feeble shot which looks like a waste ae time. But ken what, eh? it’s somehow managed tae roll under the goalies airms, Fuckin Yes! Naeboady kin deny Aldo took hings too far wae the boays daughter but it looks as if it’s done the trick cos there’s nae wey the boay shouldnae huv saved that yin. Oor supporters have come unglued and everyboady’s jumpin up and doon like dafties. The boay is stormin towards us as the referee blows his whistle tae signal the end ae the half and he looks pissed.
‘’You’re fuckin deid, ya cunt!’’ he’s screamin as he points towards Aldo. ‘’Nae cunt talks aboot ma bairn like that!’’.
Jist as he gits close tae the barrier where wur standin, a few ae the stewards stoap him, jist in time. Even wae three ae these cunts huddin the boay back it’s obvious they’re strugglin tae contain him.
‘’Me and you’’ He says, pointin at Aldo ‘’efter the match. Ah’ll fuckin end yae!’’
In typical Aldo fashion he doenae gee a fuck aboot the guy’s threats and if anyhing seems tae welcome thum.
‘’Yae promise, dae yae? sweetheart?’’ he sais sarcastically. A comment that only seems tae enrage the boay further.
Wuv only went and fuckin done it, eh? held oan fur a famous victory. Shite game, dinnae git me wrong, but who gees a fuck aboot the standard ae play. Aldo’s masterplan tae fuck wae Bonnyrigg’s keeper hus proved tae be nuttin shoart ae a masterstroke. Oor supporters are walkin oan air right noo and every cunt is chantin ‘’Wur gonnae win the cup!’’. Craig’s made a quick run fur the bog and Aldo’s standin here amongst the fans, smug as yae like. As if he single handily won us the tie. Which, tae be fair tae him, isnae that far fae the truth. Of course, he’s went tae droap an E in celebration ae the win. But wae everybody jumpin aboot and aw the airms gittin flung, it’s been knoacked right oot his hand.
‘’Fur fuck sake!’’ he roars. Before he collapses tae the groond tae search fur the hing.
‘’Jist leave the fuckin hing. The BBC should be here soon tae interview some ae us’’ ah tell him.
‘’Bairns train here, yae dafty’’ he hisses at me. ‘’Did yae no notice that poster at the entrance? You kin be an irresponsible bastard sometimes, Dougie. Yae really kin’’
Ah’m left absolutely dumbfoonded wae that response. ‘’Ah’m the irresponsible yin? You’re the bam who broat that shite intae the groond’’.
Maist ae the fans huv begun tae trickle oot ae the stadium. Aw ma fuckin god, eh? here comes Pishwater bargin his wey through the supporters and he looks as if he’s a madman oan a mission, headin straight oor wey.
‘’Aldo, that boays comin’’ ah beg wae him.
‘’Doesnae matter tae me Dougie, son. Yur still ma mate’’
‘’Eh?’’ ah sais ‘’Will yae look up!’’
He’s closin in oan us at lightnin speed. So, ah try tae bloack his path as Aldo’s still oblivious tae oor impendin problem.
‘’Mate, it wis jist banter’’ ah tell him.
Withoot a moment’s hesitation he gees me a swift right hand. Which dually sends me tumblin tae concrete.
Aw ma god, ma heid is bangin. Fuckin hell, how hard did that cunt hit me? Where the fuck um ah? is this that boozer fae earlier? It fuckin is, n aw.
There’s a wuman gone aboot collectin the empties.
‘’Excuse me love, where um ah?’’
‘’The Calderwood. Yur mates dumped yae in here.’’
That sounds jist like that pair ae miserable bastards, ah hink tae masel. Lookin at the corner ae the room ah notice suttin oan the telly. But it cannae be right, is that? Ah mean, is that Aldo? it fuckin is tae.
‘’Kin yae turn that up please?’’ ah ask her, which the wuman kindly does.
Jim Spence is standin there wae Aldo. Who’s aw but booncin as he awaites tae be interviewed.
‘’Ah’m standin here wae a supporter who hus followed his team through the gid times and the bad. What’s yur name, sir?’’.
‘’Aldo’’ he answers, aw gleefully.
‘’Well, Aldo. Why don’t you tell me how proud you are of these players?. This is a great achievement fur yur club’’
‘’Aye, that’s right, Jim’’ Aldo tells him ‘’ We at The Star are yin big faimily, eh? Mean, ah’ve been a supporter ae the club since ah wis auld enough tae crawl. There’s nuttin like the feelin ae community spirit. And kin ah tell ma missus suttin, who’s back at haime watchin?’’
‘’We did it, baby! And you owe me ma hole when ah git back!’’
‘’ Apologies there, for the language, ladies and gentlemen. But forgetting that last remark for a moment. The party currently going on behind me does go to show that community spirit and football do certainly coincide as one. This is Jim Spence, reporting fur BBC Scotland. Back to the guys in the studio’’.
Ah’m loast fur words right noo. The absolute audacity. He jist goat interviewed by Jim fuckin spence! This hus goat tae be the maist surreal moment ae ma life. Aldo, ya dirty glory huntin bastard!