It's all about pride
Diane recalls her first visit to Easter Road and passes thoughts on women match officials....

WHEN I WAS ABOUT FIVE YEARS OLD MY MUM BOUGHT ME the most beautiful pair of red shoes with a wee silver buckle at the side.  I fell in love with those shoes from the first moment I saw them and that night I fell asleep with them still on my feet and I made myself a promise that I would love them and treasure them, forever.  Unfortunately like most childhood love affairs, the following week saw the parting of the ways and I moved on, probably to the blue duffle coat with the black toggles that I’d wanted all my short life.

But then, when I was a lot older and wiser, (about 7 and a half) it happened again.  I fell totally and madly in love again and it was all thanks to my Dad.  My brother had already pinned his name firmly to Celtic by then (My Dad’s still not recovered from that ) and as there was no turning him round, my dad wanted me to redeem his reputation and so, to Easter Road he took me. I can still remember that first visit but surprisingly the memories I recall are not of the football on the park, no, I couldn’t even tell you who we were playing that Saturday afternoon, never mind the score.  It was the crowd that won my heart that day.  All those people, and it felt like everyone in the world was there; thousands and thousands of them, there to watch the Hibs.  I can remember my Dad holding my hand as we walked up the hill to the East terracing, as he made me turn my head firmly to the right so that my innocent wee eyes wouldn’t fall on the rows of guys who used the wall in preference to the loos (were there any?). But once we’d climbed to the top, up I went onto his shoulders and there, before me, was a scene that that made the wee hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. 

I didn’t recognise the feelings I was experiencing then, but I know it now to be pride. I was as proud as punch to be in amongst the Hibs fans that day and three decades later my feelings are still the same and those wee hairs still have a habit of standing as proud when I’m in amongst my ain folks.  Unlike my red shoes and blue duffle coat, I kept my promise to myself to love them with all my heart for all of my life. Okay like all good love affairs, the Hibs and me have had the odd spraff and I have had many a moment when I’ve thought I could walk away and not look back, but whom am I kidding?  I could no more walk away from this team than I could go teetotal, and those that know me will know how tall an order that is!!!

A Hibby and proud of it! (sns)

That’s why I want the Stand Up and Be Counted campaign to be successful.  Not overnight, because success just doesn’t come that easily or quickly; hell one hundred and two years proves that!  But I liken it a bit to someone who needs to lose a few pounds in weight. Well okay, a few stone.  Any dietician will tell you that if the weight loss happens as a result of a well thought out, controlled healthy eating plan, then the weight will come off slowly and the chances of it staying off are increased.  So, to all of you who are just that wee bit cynical, and there are justifiably a good few of you, then I implore you to be patient.  This isn’t about selling a few t-shirts and badges to make a fast buck, it’s about raising awareness amongst the extended Hibernian community that we’re still here and that we want and need them to come back.  And maybe another wee person will be as proud as I was when he or she first realises what it feels like to be a Hibs supporter.

When John and Stu defected (okay, popped over by to save the official site!) I thought they’d be irreplaceable and as such I’ve spent many an evening trying to block out the sadness and unhappiness I’ve felt since their departure.  However, I’m a big girl (duh!) and I’m slowly beginning to realise that red wine is not the answer to coping with disappointment.  But Terracing Tam is!!!!!  Members of this site were yesterday introduced to the latest Hibs.net user to put forward his views by writing for the front page.  Terracing Tam explained to us just why Ian McCall got it so wrong in alluding that Hibs got a draw merely by not playing fair.  Tam’s thoughts were so eloquently put and you the reader will have picked up on his flair and ability in giving a clear picture of Saturday’s match.  His summarising was truly superb and left little to the imagination, but just how Tam managed to get the inside gossip of events in the pressroom post-match remains a mystery.  Being as I am ‘in the know’ I thought I’d try and find out just who he is, obviously expecting one of my colleagues here on the site to own up to Tam being their alter ego.  But no, it seems that oor Tam is straight up (ooo err missus) and above board, and I for one think he’s a breath of fresh air.  If, by any chance, you’re reading this today Tam, can I please ask you to write for us again in the near future?  Your take on events is a lesson to us all and we all want a shot of your green tinted spectacles.

My parting shot today is dedicated to Albion Rovers manager, Peter Hetherston. Now Petie’s been a silly gaffer in that he’s suggested Morag Pirie should have been spending more time in her kitchen rattling up egg and chips than rattling his cage by running up and down the touchline as the latest addition to the refereeing club.  Being a wummin of the world myself my first thought was “what a tosser” of eggs she’d be, but I’m beginning to think that sweetie Petie may not be far from logical with his remarks.  Not that I believe for one minute that Morag the torag should be at home cookin’ up her man’s tea, no way! What I can’t understand is why would she want to run up and down the line looking at the position of the ball and whether or not it was played before a player ran into an offside position, when she could be sitting in the stands with all her muckers throwing abuse at wee stumpy men who have spent years mastering the art of being tossers of the eggs without her interference!