New Statesman Scotland

Consternation at Glasgow City Chambers. "Just the ticket!" exclaimed many employees on securing a coveted ticket for Saturday's big game at Hampden. The trouble was that they had used internal phone-lines to the ticket centre to secure their prizes, while the hotline serving the general public had gone decidedly cold. There was much gnashing of teeth, accusations and counter-accusations and demands for heads to roll. Sounds like the post-mortem of a Scotland match.

In an oldies five-a-side dressing-room on a dank Sunday morning in deepest suburban Edinburgh, prior to the weekly game, present decrepitude is giving way to past glories. The solitary goal in the Churches League decider in 1975 becomes a hat trick. "The Hearts had me watched twice, but nothing came of it," confides Andy, 49-year-old part-time bon viveur and modest to a fault. He shuffles over the concrete floor towards his team-mate Tommy with a faded newspaper cutting in his hand. "See, told you, I did play at Wembley in front of 90,000 - 1965 Scottish Schools." In the other corner, Graeme, also touching 50, being the astute police officer that he is, chimes in: "Was that a kids' penalty competition at half time, Andy?" Much hilarity among the rest of the "I could've been a contender" mob. Meanwhile, a new team member, Jack, a mere 40 years old, continues lacing his boots and, without looking up, says: "Actually, I played three times at Wembley." Suddenly the laughter changes to awed silence and several voices say in unison: "Did you?" "Aye," continues Jack softly, "once with Scottish Schools and twice with the Manchester United youth team . . . " The dressing-room is hushed. Even Bob, who never tires of telling anyone who will listen that he once had a trial for Meadowbank Thistle, falls silent. It was only later that Andy was heard saying to Jack: "Did you keep any newspaper cuttings?"

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