A Trip To Paradise

When we set about putting in motion the plans for The EuroChampsChallenge it was always clear that Celtic would be a key component in what we're trying to do.  Not only are they the only Scottish club to have won the trophy, but they were also the first British team to win the Cup.  In addition to this, the start of the Challenge was always intended to be in Glasgow and, of all the clubs, they were the one with which we had one or two contacts which we felt could prove fruitful.  I think we always hoped that they would be supportive, however I don't think any of us could have predicted just how accommodating they would be.

At this point it is probably only fair to point out that I do not own green-tinted spectacles and nor could I ever be described as a Celtic supporter - my relationship with the green side of Glasgow would probably be best described as varied. On the one hand there was the manner in which Hearts lost the league back in '86 - to a smash and grab by Celtic.  Set against this is the sheer exhilaration of being at Parkhead to witness the atmosphere of Celtic against Valencia in the UEFA Cup in 2001. 

Then there was the incident in the late 90's when, sat in the away end at Celtic Park, I was lucky enough to be offered a pie from a home supporter...  from 30 feet away (it wasn't the manner in which it was served that annoyed me, it was the dismay at someone wasting something so tasty). To counter this is the genuine pride I have at witnessing Henrik Larsson ply his trade in Scotland; one of the few world-class players I have ever seen gracing the grounds of the Scottish leagues, and certainly the most memorable.

When all is said and done, however, what Celtic have done for the EuroChampsChallenge has changed my relationship with this great club forever.

From the first moment we had contact with the club they were on-side with our challenge.  The first conversation I had with Iain at Celtic was very simple. "Look guys, whatever you need, whenever you think we can help, please just get in touch".  It would be very easy to abuse this and set Celtic the challenge of sourcing all our Medallion Men - but that would defeat the purpose of the challenge we've set ourselves. 

However, when The BIG Partnership managed to persuade The Daily Record to cover our story, it was clear that the best place for the photoshoot would be at Celtic Park, and hopefully a couple of snaps next to the cabinet which holds the famous old trophy.

And so it was that Angus and I found ourselves in the east end of Glasgow on a cold and miserable Wednesday afternoon.  While the weather may have been gloomy, the day was not.  We were greeted at the reception area and almost immediately found ourselves wandering past the changing rooms, down the tunnel and onto the Parkhead pitchside. Made to feel like the new-season signings, we were snapped with arms aloft and wide grins against the backdrop of "Paradise".

Within moments, the magnificent European Cup trophy was brought pitchside.  Even in the subdued light of a dull December day in Scotland, the Cup sparkled brightly. While the walk down the tunnel made the hairs on the back of my neck stand, the glinting sight of the wonderful trophy was special; this may be because of its iconic status, or it might be because of what it has come to mean to me over the past few months, but for whatever reason, I was genuinely moved to be in the presence of such beauty.

After a variety of pics we retired to the relative warmth of the (empty) home dressing room - just for a sneaky peek.  While Angus was pre-occupied with the fact that Jos Hooiveld has the same boots as him (only slightly bigger), Iain from Celtic took the time to find the kit-man and introduce us to him. Now, the Cup may have moved me, but this man took things to a different level.  John Clark has been with the club for the better part of 50 years. He played 182 games over a career spanning 13 years.  Most importantly, however, he played against Internazionale of Milan in the European Cup Final victory in Lisbon in 1967.  John Clark is a Lisbon Lion.  John Clark is the first Medallion Man I have ever met. 

There is an aura about the man and a calm confidence that can only come from someone who has achieved something.  I could have cried, but instead speedily mumbled the words 'legend', 'Lisbon Lion' and 'Medallion Man' in quick succession.  The man was bemused.  If I'm going to make a success of this EuroChampsChallenge thing, then I'm going to have to put in place a better mechanism for dealing with Medallion Men.

On a day where I found amazement in the stadium, the Cup and the Medallion Man, Angus was impressed most by the changing rooms and the tunnel.  What really brought things into sharp focus, however, and what summed up the enormity of what we were experiencing, was not what I felt, nor the reaction of Angus.  The most symbolic event was delivered by a friend and Celtic Supporter who had accompanied us.  He waited in the wings and held our jackets as the photographer got the shots he wanted of Angus and me, and gernerally stayed in the background merely taking it all in.  When the three us us were left in that changing room, alone with The European Cup, he could hide his desire no more:

"You've got to take a photo of me with the trophy. I don't think I'll ever get another chance to hold it, never mind in the home dressing room at Parkhead". 

And that's what it is about.  What we experienced was special.  It was special to us, but to those hundreds of thousands of Celtic fans out there, it was "wedding-day" special.  It was "birth-of-the-first-child" special.  It was "best-day-of-my-life" special.

Which is exactly how Angus described it on the way home.

Thank you Celtic.  We're proud to have a European Cup winning team from Scotland, and we're proud to be associated with you.


(To read The Daily Record article click here)

Falling in Love

It's probably fair to say that over the last few years my passion for football has not been what it used to be.  I would never say I'd fallen out of love with the game, however the relationship has gone through a rocky patch which, only now when reflecting on this, I realise how far apart we'd grown. 

There's no solitary reason and no single turning point that I can identify.  What I can say is that, like many long term relationships, it's been a gradual drift that day to day hasn't been apparent, but the passage of time revealed a considerable gap.

It probably started around six years ago - the time that I gave up my season ticket at Tynecastle.  There were a number of reasons for this, not least the pressures of time and the desire to see more of my (very) young son.  The surrender of my seat in isolation would not have been an issue, but it coincided with a change of ownership at Hearts and the introduction of a number of new foreign imports.  Many of these had a positive impact on the club, few did not.  However, what it did mark was the evolution of a team to one with which I had little connection - and no longer seeing them every other week, I lost the opportunity to address this.

This break-down in my relationship with my club was only really the start.  In the following years I drifted away from football in general.  I felt that off-field antics cast a dark shadow as much as the on-field theatrics.  The game itself became a peripheral figure in the soap opera around which it was set.  One week the focus would be on the role of agents in the game, the next would be an in-depth analysis of why new Far-Eastern cash was better for a club than old Western money.  We'd discuss at length whether the referees were applying the wrong interpretation of the right rules, or the right interpretation of rules that were clearly wrong.  Endless hours would be spent debating the moral minefield of indiscretion and infidelity of manys a player or manager. 

Football was no longer about the game.  Or maybe more appropriately, the game was about much more than just football.

It is ironic, then, that I have rediscovered football in a season which has already encapsulated many of these traits.  And having reflected on this, it's because I've remembered why I loved football in the first place.

I played football from as young as I can remember, but it was 1986 - at the age of ten - that I really fell for the game.  Hearts had just endured 'that' season and Maradona's World Cup in Mexico lit up my life.  Scotland were wearing the infamous strip with those tight hooped shorts, and Liverpool were dominant in the first division with King Kenny at the helm.

There's so much I remember, all of which with enthusiasm and delight, but there's so much I've forgotten too.  English clubs were no longer welcome in Europe and you couldn't watch a live game without an eight-foot wire fence between you and the players.  Seats were for either the old or the wealthy as - it would appear - were the toilets.  We were a year on from the stadium disasters of Bradford City and Heysel, and still three years ahead of Hilsborough - the seminal moment in British football.  In the four years around the start of my love affair, the better part of 200 people died going to watch football.  There is no debate that football is in a better place now.

I loved the game when it was ugly, so I should surely love it now that it's beautiful once more.  But when I fell in love with the game, I fell in love with the game.  It was what the players did on the pitch that counted.  The manager of the club mattered little and the ownership less still.  In our world, the bitterness of rivalries were no more than playground teases.  The boots a player was wearing were important; the 'birds' he was dating were not.

It is only now as I witness the next generation falling for the game that I remember why I fell for the game.  And it's the game that counts.  My (still quite) young son shows an enthusiasm that echoes mine 25 years ago. Star players, great goals and - dare I say it - the excitement of a new strip are what matters.  The rest is just bubble-wrap.

That is what is important.  It's the package in the middle that counts.  It's about the game.  While it all evolves from one decade to the next - from one generation to the next - it is still one ball between 22 players on the pitch.  To lose sight of that, is to lose the love.

As I stand at the start of one of the biggest challenges of my life, I'm happy that I've managed to re-ignite my relationship with the beautiful game.  I'm delighted that The EuroChampsChallenge is about all those aspects which we love about the game; we will leave it to the others to get tangled up in the wrapping.

But more than anything, I'm happy once more to be able to say: I love football.  And for that - thank-you my son.

With a little help from our friends...

While the EuroChampsChallenge concept is one that I have lived with for over five years now, it was only in the summer of 2010 that the wheels were really set in motion and it became real.  Up until then I had only ever shared the idea as a 'pub chat' discussion and I don't think anyone ever really thought I was serious.  And up until late July this year, I'm not sure I'd convinced myself that I was serious. 

As with many things in life, The EuroChampsChallenge only really came alive once it had an identity and once it's name had been spoken.  And like many things in life the initial response was generally sceptical.  This is understandable - I mean, seriously, it's not like 'I'm going to run a marathon' or 'I'm going to climb some hills'. 'I'm going to The Champions League Final... and on the way I'm going to visit 21 of Europe's biggest football teams, meet one of their stars, and raise £100,000 for charity' - it's not a normal discussion, and as charity challenges go, it's ambitious to say the least.

I have to say, however, that once people have realised that I am serious, the reception has been nothing less than tremendous.  This shows itself in many ways and the comments range from 'good luck', 'great idea, well done' through to 'how can I help?' and 'can I come with you?'.

What has been most remarkable, however, is the manner in which this has progressed.  A lot of you out there have just picked up on this and helped spread the word.  I've got some great friends who have great friends and between them they've opened some doors to some pretty impressive places.  There are also a number of people who I ain't seen for long time; guys who I haven't spoken to years, but for whatever reason have gone out of their way to help. 

I'd like to just take a minute and tell you about one example.  In September I wrote to the various embassies in a number of the countries we are due to travel through, and to the British Consulates in these countries.  We needed to find out about the laws and regulations for travelling through these countries, and to be aware of what would be required at border crossings.  As I noted in an earlier blog, key to the success of this challenge has been the 'cheeky requests'; in my letter to the British Ambassador for Croatia I asked if he happened to know the likes of Suker, Boban, Boksic or Prosinecki - not ever expecting to gain anything from it.

A man called Chris at the British Embassy in Zagreb then got in touch, and 6 weeks later we had a lunch date organised with Robert Prosinecki.  Genuinely remarkable.  The reason I use this example is that here is a guy we've never met, who doesn't know us and who's 1,500 miles away.  But nevertheless, he looked into what we are doing and why we're doing it, and then went out of his way to help us.

Chris, and all of the rest of these people - you know who you are - have been instrumental in the successes we have achieved to date, and we would not have got this far this quickly without you. And neither will we achieve what we have set out to achieve without your continued support.  It is you people who are now making this real.  Thank you.  We'll do our best not to let you down.