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TrasnaHibsFan
17-04-2013, 11:21 AM
Not being a native to either Scotland or England, but being a Hibs and Newcastle fan, was just curious as to the history and relations between Hibs and NUFC supporters? I've only found bits and pieces about this online, some which contradicts the other, and I thought where to find out but on the forum. Just total curiosity about this as they are both 'my teams' so to speak! Any connection whatsoever? I know a number of teams in the SPL have connections with English teams and alot of joint supporters. Any other Hibs and Newcastle supporters out there?

Thanks friends, :flag:

HUTCHYHIBBY
17-04-2013, 11:25 AM
I heard stories about there being a lot of bother at a Newcastle - Hibs game back in the 70's IIRC, unfortunately the details have been lost in the mists of time!

PerfectlyFranck
17-04-2013, 11:27 AM
No direct links. Possibly just coincidences, incidents and similarities.



For example,


Newcastle fans punch bairns and horses.

Hibs fans get horsed off Bairns.

linlithgowhibbie
17-04-2013, 11:33 AM
I heard stories about there being a lot of bother at a Newcastle - Hibs game back in the 70's IIRC, unfortunately the details have been lost in the midst of time!

Scariest game/ground I have ever been at. Worst hoolies I have ever seen. Just about sh** myself there. However I have been to NUFC since and thoroughly enjoyed the days out. Son in law is from the Toon, defo my english team:thumbsup:

KWJ
17-04-2013, 11:54 AM
Know a few folk who have Newcastle as their English team, I used to be the same when I was young but I'd only say it's a soft spot now.

There's at least a couple on here though.

Edina Erin
17-04-2013, 12:04 PM
Know a few folk who have Newcastle as their English team, I used to be the same when I was young but I'd only say it's a soft spot now.

There's at least a couple on here though.

I remember there being a lot of trouble after Hibs played Newcastle at ER in 83 or 84? Jackie Macs testimonial. This was in the very early days of the Hibs Casuals.
This resulted in a few Newcastle boys coming to a derby at Tiny a few weeks later on a recruitment drive.

Jo McBride
17-04-2013, 02:49 PM
I used to live in Newcastle in the 90's (during the Keegan era), and whilst on a trip back to Edinburgh to see the Hibs, I responded to an ad in the Hibs match programme. The advert was in relation to starting up a North East, of England supporters club !
Couldn't believe my luck!!
I got in touch and we met in a pub in the Gallowgate, where I was elected "Chairman of the Tyneside Hibernians!!"
All in there where about a dozen members, 2 or 3 Sunderland fans and the rest Geordies. We used to meet on a Tuesday night at the Irish Centre in the Gallowgate...just a piss up really! Fizzled out after a year or so......but we used to get the train up to games in Edinburgh.

How's that for a connection!

GGTTH

RIP
17-04-2013, 02:56 PM
Stevie C. NUFC HFC ST

StevieC
17-04-2013, 03:26 PM
Stevie C. NUFC HFC ST

I have followed both since I was a wee boy. :wink:

And the good thing about following Hibs and Newcastle is that no-one can ever accuse you of being a glory hunter. :greengrin

As the founding member of the Scottish Mags, I know lots of Newcastle supporters that travel down from Scotland. We used to get discounted train travel with Virgin (until they lost the franchise) and could have anything up to 40 supporters heading down together. Some are Geordies that now live up here but most are Scottish, that quite often have allegiances to Scottish teams. Some, like me, will swap between St James' and the team they support but, to be honest, a lot of them are guys that travel down have become completely disillusioned with Scottish football and rarely bother with a game up here.

Whilst there are a lot of Newcastle supporting Hibs fans, I'm sorry to say that I've not come across too many Hibs supporting Geordies. They are out there, and I do my bit to try and swell the numbers, but sadly it's one of the OF if they have a Scottish preference.

HIBERNIAN-0762
17-04-2013, 03:42 PM
Don't like them or understand them, a friendly in the 70s down there was far from friendly, crap team, always have been always will be despite 50k at home games.

No connection whatsoever in my book.

Nakedmanoncrack
17-04-2013, 03:46 PM
Only connection I know of, is fists connecting with faces last time we played them in Jackie Mac's testimonial.

G-Reg
17-04-2013, 03:56 PM
My brother was brought up in Newcastle and is a season ticket holder down there and got me into watching them at a young age. Not been in a while now tho. I remember going to watch them play the yams in a pre season game I think it was 95ish I wore my hibs top and got a less than friendly reception on the way to the game.

Jo McBride
17-04-2013, 04:05 PM
I used to live in Newcastle in the 90's (during the Keegan era), and whilst on a trip back to Edinburgh to see the Hibs, I responded to an ad in the Hibs match programme. The advert was in relation to starting up a North East, of England supporters club !
Couldn't believe my luck!!
I got in touch and we met in a pub in the Gallowgate, where I was elected "Chairman of the Tyneside Hibernians!!"
All in there where about a dozen members, 2 or 3 Sunderland fans and the rest Geordies. We used to meet on a Tuesday night at the Irish Centre in the Gallowgate...just a piss up really! Fizzled out after a year or so......but we used to get the train up to games in Edinburgh.

How's that for a connection!

GGTTH

StevieC
17-04-2013, 04:13 PM
Don't like them or understand them, a friendly in the 70s down there was far from friendly, crap team, always have been always will be despite 50k at home games.

No connection whatsoever in my book.

Although you described three or four similarities to Hibs in your opening sentence. :greengrin

StevieC
17-04-2013, 04:17 PM
I remember going to watch them play the yams in a pre season game I think it was 95ish I wore my hibs top and got a less than friendly reception on the way to the game.

To be honest, it's not too surprising that wearing another teams colours to a game would get a frosty reception.

I was over in Lisbon for the Europa game and ripped a guy a new one for turning up to the main square (pre-match) with a Rangers flag on his back.

StevieC
17-04-2013, 04:24 PM
Putting aside fan connections ..

there are quite a lot of player connections, especially from the 60's and 70's.

There seems to be a bit of a connection going on between the two training centres as well, with youth teams regularly travelling between the two for games.

MSK
17-04-2013, 04:45 PM
Putting aside fan connections ..

there are quite a lot of player connections, especially from the 60's and 70's.

There seems to be a bit of a connection going on between the two training centres as well, with youth teams regularly travelling between the two for games.Is there not a link between Wallsend BC (think they are Newcastle) & hibs ..didnt we have a player or two on trial from them at some point ?

sbell1875
17-04-2013, 04:52 PM
Not being a native to either Scotland or England, but being a Hibs and Newcastle fan, was just curious as to the history and relations between Hibs and NUFC supporters? I've only found bits and pieces about this online, some which contradicts the other, and I thought where to find out but on the forum. Just total curiosity about this as they are both 'my teams' so to speak! Any connection whatsoever? I know a number of teams in the SPL have connections with English teams and alot of joint supporters. Any other Hibs and Newcastle supporters out there?

Thanks friends, :flag:

Me and my old man are also Hibs and Newcastle fans and one time after visiting the store at St. James' Park we nipped over to The Strawberry pub and propping up the bar was a Geordie wearing a Hibs jacket. We got speaking to him and he said he supported Hibs because it was the closest club other than Newcastle to him that he liked!

jabis
17-04-2013, 04:55 PM
seems that a lot of hibbies feel the need to have an English team and pick Newcastle because it's close, **** them :agree:

:confused:

supported the magpies since I was 5,loved the strip :na na:so there.Coming from Buckie,anywhere south of Aberdeen was a foreign country,and the only time I've been to St James Park was to see Bob Dylan.

brog
17-04-2013, 05:19 PM
We did of course have some major transfer activity with Newcastle in 70's with Brownlie & Blackley going one way & Ralph Callachan coming to ER. Hibs as a club at that time had very cordial relations with NUFC & there was some talk of an informal link up but I don't believe anything ever happened. Re Wallsend we got Damon Gray, the infamous Lua Lua & I think a keeper but no one as yet who's made the grade.

yeezus.
17-04-2013, 06:55 PM
I remember being at the Hibs Sunderland pre-season friendly back in 2011 and there was some guy with a Newcastle top on in the East. That's all I have to add.

CropleyWasGod
17-04-2013, 07:00 PM
Hibbies of a certain age used to shout abuse at Ralph Callachan. I suppose Geordies did too.

Oh, and then there's Robertson :greengrin

keithkeith
17-04-2013, 07:55 PM
Yep...passionate fan of both Clubs. Hibs all my life due to my family. Toon down to watching Auf Weidersehen Pet as a wee boy...

Love them both...

Black Kyle
17-04-2013, 07:57 PM
Went down a few times in the late 80s when they were playing Liverpool. One time we had tix for the Gallowgate end, we were 'outed' as Hibees and Pool fans but not a bit of bother, aside of a wee chorus of ' Away Up In Gorgie' during a 0-4 humping.

Iggy Pope
17-04-2013, 08:48 PM
Hibbies of a certain age used to shout abuse at Ralph Callachan. I suppose Geordies did too.

Oh, and then there's Robertson :greengrin

Someone will be along in a minute to talk of John MacNamee....:wink:

Hibrandenburg
17-04-2013, 08:57 PM
Remember my old man connecting with a two footed kick to some Geordies puss when they tried to storm our bus. Got the feeling they don't like us down there.

QMU-1875
17-04-2013, 09:01 PM
Recently started following newcastle after a mate from uni took me down to a game at the start of the season. Didnt think id get in to it at the time but ended up hooked after the atmosphere at the ground and have been to a couple of games since. One connection that got me would be their fans long wait for silverware, a bit reminiscent of our long wait for the holy grail!

RIP
17-04-2013, 10:22 PM
I remember being at the Hibs Sunderland pre-season friendly back in 2011 and there was some guy with a Newcastle top on in the East. That's all I have to add.

SeanRaff. Sect43 dude

monktonharp
17-04-2013, 11:19 PM
don't like the skunks, c'mon the macams. don't know why, but the guys in Washie area seem mair friendly and the ones on the banks o' the tyne are cocky loadmouth gits.

andudare2
17-04-2013, 11:30 PM
Someone will be along in a minute to talk of John MacNamee....:wink:

perhaps a certain mr jim scott as well?!!!!!!!!!:aok::thumbsup:

monktonharp
17-04-2013, 11:47 PM
perhaps a certain mr jim scott as well?!!!!!!!!!:aok::thumbsup:your easily pleased:greengrin at the semi?:wink:

jgl07
18-04-2013, 12:52 AM
Darren Jackson and Michael O'Neill played for both clubs.

yeezus.
18-04-2013, 08:22 AM
SeanRaff. Sect43 dude

:aok: I thought the police reaction was funnier than that of the Sunderland fans!

andudare2
18-04-2013, 02:11 PM
:flag:
your easily pleased:greengrin at the semi?:wink:think you were still a currant when scott played for the cabbage :greengrin indeed i was wullie,however if young mr daily had answered his phone at half time i was off,glad he didnae now though:wink:

Bill Milne
19-04-2013, 08:19 AM
I heard stories about there being a lot of bother at a Newcastle - Hibs game back in the 70's IIRC, unfortunately the details have been lost in the mists of time!

Yes, there was a massive amount of trouble before, during and after the game. First time I ever saw a group of fans wearing coordinated clothing (large group of Newcastle fans wearing Adidas t-shirts), which could have been said to be the start of the casuals. The violence was overshadowed by huge trouble at a Birmingham v Huns "friendly" the same day, where the Brummies flaunted Irish tricolours and succeeded in riling the Huns to the traditional scale of violence we all know and love!!

geordie_hibs
28-05-2013, 03:10 PM
Let’s go back in time; just over 40 years, to the Christmas and New Year period of 1972 and 1973. I was 8 years of age and in the first real grip of my lifelong obsession with football. My actual first football memory was watching my dad leap off the sofa to applaud Charlie George’s winning goal in the 1971 FA Cup final, but I didn’t actually understand what the FA Cup was, or who was the long haired bloke lying on the grass, being cuddled by a load of other blokes in yellow shirts. However by the year after, I had much more of an understanding of how football was actually more than just 50 lads kicking a penny floater around the school yard at break time; perhaps the game that brought the significance of football home to me was Hereford United 2 Newcastle United 1. Aged 7, I became acutely aware of NUFC’s propensity for abject humiliation on the national stage. Still, at least this game has disappeared into the ether and no-one is likely to resurrect footage of that particular debacle any time soon…

Consequently, with Newcastle United having helpfully stepped aside, the 1972 FA Cup final was a contest between holders Arsenal and the hated Leeds United, who were in search of a potential double. At the time, electrical goods were rare and expensive commodities; I can distinctly remember bringing a couple of friends home from school in the autumn of 1971 to show them our new fridge, with my mam producing the amazing treat of an ice pop each from the tiny freezer component that contractually was required to only ever include a bag of frozen peas. Bird’s Eye, of course. While we were able to keep milk and meat fresh in high summer, we still only had a black and white television, showing only 2 channels; it was a real style icon on legs, with a walnut cabinet and lockable screen door, though my friend from down the street Paul “Sten” Stonehouse’s family had a DER colour one and that’s where I watched the final.

Sten wasn’t actually a football fan; on Saturday afternoons he’d take advantage of his 3 channel luxury by flicking over from World of Sport to watch Brian Cant’s Playaway, which was a kind of prog rock concept album version of kids’ TV; longer, weirder and much more self-indulgent than the prosaic and patronising weekday Play School. However Sten’s older brother Perry (incidentally I’ve never met anyone else in my life named after the Singing Barber, Mr. Como) was a proper football fan and, so he claimed, a leading light in the Leazes End Agro Boys, which was doubtful as he was about 12 at the time. However, he did go to St. James’ Park with his mates, woollen scarf round his neck, silk ones round his wrist, in a Wrangler jacket and pin stripe Oxford bags, which made me idolise him as I’d yet to see a real live game. To this day, I envy his fashion sense.

Back in those days, BBC used to also show little snippets of action from the Scottish Cup final at half time and full time. At that age, I struggled to concentrate on a full game and the first half stalemate at Wembley wasn’t particularly conducive to keeping my childish mind focussed on the match. However, the half time highlights from Hampden did. Try as I might, I simply couldn’t find any footage of the 1972 Scottish Cup final on line, so I’ve no idea if this is actually fact, or whether my memory is playing tricks from 41 years ago. You see, May 6th 1972 marked the day I fell in love with Hibernian FC; one glimpse of that breathtakingly beautiful emerald green shirt with white sleeves and I was smitten; any interest I had in the English final, eventually won by Leeds 1-0 with an Allan Clarke diving header, was gone; I wanted to see more footage of the game at Hampden. For no reason whatsoever (historical and familial ties ought to have made me a supporter of FC Paranoid of Parkhead), I became a Hibs fan, on the day we lost 6-1 in the cup final to Celtic. It makes 2013’s loss seem mild in comparison. Please don’t disabuse my fond, romantic notion by telling me Hibs didn’t play in green that day…

From the start of the 1972/1973 season, I was functionally literate because of the classical education I was in receipt of at Falla Park Juniors, courtesy of class 4 teacher Miss Gartlan, who’d a ‘tache Salvador Dali would have been jealous of. As a result, I did the kind of homework she suggested, by avidly reading each night, even if it was merely every inch of my dad’s Evening Chronicle sports section, rather than the Bancroft Children’s Classics editions of Jane Eyre and Silas Marner she palmed off on me. On a Sunday, my widowed Nan on my mam’s side used to visit us for Sunday lunch. The plates were cleared away by 2pm, which was when Tyne Tees used to show Shoot!, their weekly regional football highlights package, that lagged far behind The Big Match in terms of glamour. While Dad and I watched the football, Nan would read her paper of choice; The Sunday Post. I’ve no idea why she used to opt for Dundee’s version of Völkischer Beobachter, but I’m glad she did as it meant I could read Scottish match reports, once she’d settled down for her snooze in mid-afternoon.

By now, I was 8 years old and a fully-fledged football obsessive, regularly pestering my dad to take me to see a live game, which he finally agreed to do on 25th November 1972, when Leicester City were the visitors to St. James’ Park. Imagine my desolation when the game was postponed on the Thursday, because the Filbert Street outfit had been struck down by a flu epidemic. Dad’s promise to take me to another game soon just didn’t suffice; I was heartbroken. I was even more bereft when the next Newcastle home game came around; Southampton were the visitors on 9th December, but Dad and Mam were going out to some posh Christmas do that night, so he claimed he couldn’t spare the time to take me, making me feel absolutely worthless, as I hunkered over an old transistor, listening to updates on Radio Newcastle. The fact it was freezing outside and ended in a 0-0 draw in no way placated me..

Nan came to babysit me and my 2 year old sister that night, while Mam and Dad went off for chicken in a basket and 50/50 dancing, whatever that was. This was a very rare occurrence and I exploited it wickedly. At that time, my bed time was still around 9pm, about the time Cannon was starting on BBC. Obviously Nan wasn’t to know this and, having checked the telly listings, I knew the following programme was Match of the Day at 10.15; I managed to persuade her, easily enough as I’m a born liar, that I was allowed to stay up to watch this every week because it wasn’t a school night.
The great thing about MotD back then was that they always used to end the programme with very brief highlights taken from Sportscene. Obviously in 1972 there was no way of knowing the results unless you’d either memorised them at tea time, or bought a Saturday evening football special, The Pink, as the Tyneside version was called, but Dad hadn’t bothered to get one, probably as he was going out and a 0-0 draw wouldn’t be the most riveting read. Therefore, it was an utter shock when MotD ended with footage from Hampden of the League Cup final. We won 2-1, gaining revenge on Celtic for May’s humiliation. Obviously I wasn’t old enough to understand the historical significance of this result, but it made me a happy Hibby as I crawled in to bed at the incredibly late hour of 11pm, about half an hour before a bladdered mam and dad waltzed in, having taken a taxi (a taxi mind you…) home from their glamorous social event.

Frankly, to say my parents were “disappointed” in my deceit the night before was an understatement, once Nan told them how late I’d stayed up, but the emotional frost melted in time for Santa to come and the promise of a trip to see Newcastle was part of my Christmas box. For reasons I’m unsure of, I didn’t get to see 2-1 wins against Manchester City on December 23rd or 4-1 versus Sheffield United the week after. Instead, my first trip to St. James’ Park was for the rearranged Leicester City game on Monday 1st January 1973, a very auspicious date I’m sure you’ll agree, which was also the last time New Year’s Day wasn’t a Public Holiday in England, though it was a regional one in the North East. In fact Newcastle United 2 Leicester City 2, a game of which I have no memory whatsoever other than the fact we (me, dad, my cousin John and his dad my Uncle John) were in the Gallowgate Strawberry Corner, was the only fixture played in the English top division that day. As a result, there was neither a Pink to keep as a memento, nor Match of the Day to watch the highlights on that night. However, there was the report in the next day’s Evening Chronicle, alongside an in-depth feature on a certain game that had taken place in Tynecastle, which made me almost faint with joy; not at the opponents, just at the score. You see, as sunderland were in a lower division to Newcastle from 1970 until 1976, my formative football years were spent without the concept of a local rival. Thankfully, I’ve made up for this in terms of contemptuous enmity since, but that’s another matter.

JimBHibees
28-05-2013, 03:11 PM
Yes, there was a massive amount of trouble before, during and after the game. First time I ever saw a group of fans wearing coordinated clothing (large group of Newcastle fans wearing Adidas t-shirts), which could have been said to be the start of the casuals. The violence was overshadowed by huge trouble at a Birmingham v Huns "friendly" the same day, where the Brummies flaunted Irish tricolours and succeeded in riling the Huns to the traditional scale of violence we all know and love!!

Think it was Aston Villa they were playing.

geordie_hibs
28-05-2013, 03:12 PM
So, you’ll be expecting me to tell you, now I’ve established the context of my support for Hibs, of how I finally consummated my passion with a trip to Easter Road, in the company of dozens of other Newcastle based Hibs fans. Sadly, that wasn’t the case; for a start, most people in these parts who express a preference for an Edinburgh team tend to take Hearts, mainly on account of the name Tynecastle, which is about as logical as me falling in love with the shirt. Consequently, my love affair for the Hibees was a long-distance one for the next quarter of a century. Shamefully, I didn’t make it to Easter Road until February 1st 1997, for an atrocious, abject 1-1 draw with Raith Rovers, in the company of my mate Mick from Ashington, who was a Hibs supporter. The important thing for me that day was my immediate sense that this was home. This was my club, by adoption not birth admittedly, and I sang and cheered through the first half until I sobered up, then yawned and grumbled my way through the second; just like everyone around me on the East Terrace. My next two Hibs games were happier affairs; accompanying Mick to the 4-2 play-off victory over Airdrie at Broadwood was a glorious occasion and a solo trip to the 2-1 victory over Celtic in the opening game of the next season a brilliant and unexpected pleasure, which ended up as a false dawn as we were relegated.

In 2002/2003, I saw 2 fixtures at Easter Road; a 1-1 draw on 15th February in my only ever Edinburgh Derby (we should have won) and on 24th May, when I brought my son, then aged 7, to the last game of the season, in the hope of passing on the Hibernian supporting baton in NE7. We lost 3-2 to Partick and he’s not been back, but I’m sure he will return. Eventually…

By profession I’m a college lecturer, with English Literature my specialist subject. Involving Hibernian in the curriculum is fairly easy, especially with the works of Irvine Welsh to exploit. As I was teaching Trainspotting as part of a unit dedicated to literary representations of capital cities, it seemed logical to organise a field trip, which is what I did in December 2005. Having taken the students on organised Trainspotting tour of Leith, with a guide and everything, we finished off with a visit to Easter Road, where Derek Riordan’s last minute goal gloriously defeated Motherwell 2-1, in what could have been my second last day on earth. The next afternoon, driving back from my parents’ house, I was rear ended by a Tesco 18 wheeler on the A1 going north; “you should have died you know,” were the words the paramedic who stitched my scalp back together at the side of the road said to me. The reason we didn’t was an instinctive comment to my son as we were about to pull away; “sit behind your mam please.” If I’d not said that, I wouldn’t be here to write this; more importantly, neither would he… Still, within 6 weeks we were all right as rain and, despite the car being a write-off, I still managed to retrieve the 3 copies of Saturday 17th December’s Pink, which was the last ever edition, that told of Michael Owen’s hat trick in a 4-2 win for Newcastle at West Ham, but mentioned nothing of the events at Easter Road.

Astonishingly, and embarrassingly, that was my last visit to see Hibs. There was the aborted trip on 11th August 2007, my birthday, to see the Gretna game we won 4-2, so I’ve not had the chance to see NUFC and Hibs legends Alan O’Brien and Shefki Kuqi at Easter Road, but the less said of them the better. In my defence for my non-attendance, the fact I play veterans football on Saturday morning and I’m involved with Percy Main Amateurs, as well as still seeing about half of Newcastle’s home games, means I struggle to find an opportunity to come up. However, courtesy of the very wonderful Graham Ewing, editor of Mass Hibsteria, an opportunity presented itself once the English season ended on 25th May with Gosforth Bohemians Reserves defeating Winlaton Queen’s Head 4-0 in the John Hampson Memorial Trophy at Purvis Park, to get to the final. Despite the result, I’ll be eternally grateful to him. I must say, I felt somewhat guilty that that I would be going, while proper Hibs fans like Bruce in Oxfordshire or Declan from Galway were forced to miss out, but I couldn’t turn down this opportunity, could I?

When it comes to football, there is no option but to adopt a Manichean approach to games involving your team; we are right and they are wrong is simply a fact of sporting life. Elsewhere in life, such an approach may not always be helpful, but when it comes to the racist **** of the BNP and their fellow travellers in suits, UKIP or their street brawling wing the EDL, absolutism is the only way forward. Following the murder of a British soldier in Woolwich, the already planned EDL march in Newcastle took on a much more sinister tone; the Islamophobic racist *******s behind the EDL would use events to influence the foolish, the ignorant and the easily led into supporting the boorish, Carling swilling Stuart Hazell lookalikes that make up the EDL’s Sturmabteilung as they brought disgrace to the streets of my home city. Thankfully an umbrella demonstration, hastily but intelligently organised by Newcastle Unites showed that our city does not embrace racist rhetoric as a political credo. Without wishing to display my eidetic memory, this was shown in 2010, the last time the EDL marched here and ambivalent attitudes, seeking to compare EDL hate speak with the supposed events in Dublin over Easter of 2006, when all NUFC supporting eyes were actually on a certain 4-1 victory when even Luque scored, are simply not credible. Support your team and fight fascism; end of story.

In contrast to the hatred and bigotry displayed by the EDL on Saturday, the support for Hibernian on Sunday was as life-affirming and touching as I have ever seen in a football ground; the massed ranks of Hibees stood gloriously, defiantly belting out a ceaseless chorus of pro Hibs anthems during the last 10 minutes, at 3-0 down, was the very epitome of what it means to follow a team; I am beyond grateful I was present at such an event. I hate to say this, but if it had been Newcastle United, a sizeable zany element would have been waving their shoes over their heads and telling Celtic your support is ****ing ****. While there was an admittedly pissed and idiotic Ned element among the Hibs support, thankfully they were few in number and seemed to piss off at half time. The only other people I saw leaving were four Celtic fans who’d secured tickets in our end and were invited to leave this part after celebrating the second goal. Pricks.

The day began on an empty train from Newcastle to Waverley, then a packed one to Queen Street. As I’m heading up to Glasgow next weekend (Larkhall Thistle v Port Glasgow in the Juniors, followed by The Pastels at CCA), I didn’t dawdle as I made my way to Central for a completely deserted special to Mount Florida. Not having been to Hampden before, except to the museum with Mick, I wanted to get there early and soak up the atmosphere. The gates weren’t even open, so I took a stroll around the Tesco Family Fun Day, which was every bit as grim as the name suggests, in Lesser Hampden, mainly so I could use the toilets. These were a unisex Portakabin, also equipped with 5 showers; is it too cheap a gag to ask why they’ve got those in Glasgow? When I finally got to have a tinkle, a plastered, middle-aged Celtic fan in the next cubicle was dropping his load, noisily and fetidly, while slurring the words to Kevin Barry; they’re such a classy outfit, aren’t they?

At 2.00, the turnstiles opened and I went in the ground for a coffee and a Hampden pie, steak not Scotch though. My seat gave me a splendid view of the pitch and I was very impressed with Hampden. Even more impressive was the mass singing of Sunshine on Leith before kick-off; the mass dabbling of moist eyes immediately afterwards showed just what this final meant, especially after the previous year’s humiliation. As for the game itself; well if Doyle had taken that early chance, and he really should have, things could have been different. As it was, Williams was desperate on the first goal (how on earth did he miss that cross?) and we were up against it. The second goal was the killer and despite the fact we played neat, controlled football on the ground, in contrast to the ugly, route one anti-football game plan that Celtic relentlessly relied on, we were unthreatening. I do feel the third goal was unfair on us and that Hibs did enough to deserve a consolation goal, but it wasn’t to be.

Come full time, a few defiant chants, a massive round of applause to the players and, I have to say, an expression of gratitude to Fenlon (Bohs are my Irish team) and O’Brien (a certain free kick he scored at Joker Park in October 1992 will always be the best goal of all time), then I was away for the train before the cup was presented. I got the 17.07 from Mount Florida, the 17.34 from Queen Street and my first pint, of several, in The Guildford at 18.50, in the company of several NUFC fans I recognised who’d been at the game, supporting Hibs. How come I’d never known this before?

A good drink, an enjoyable train journey home, a few late drinks at home to a musical accompaniment and I almost felt like I’d recovered. Still, my dismal record remains of seeing my teams in 3 cup finals, losing them all and not scoring a goal. However, I remain a proud supporter of Hibernian and I’m determined to be up for the Europa League qualifiers in July.

GGTTH!!

JimBHibees
28-05-2013, 03:17 PM
Let’s go back in time; just over 40 years, to the Christmas and New Year period of 1972 and 1973. I was 8 years of age and in the first real grip of my lifelong obsession with football. My actual first football memory was watching my dad leap off the sofa to applaud Charlie George’s winning goal in the 1971 FA Cup final, but I didn’t actually understand what the FA Cup was, or who was the long haired bloke lying on the grass, being cuddled by a load of other blokes in yellow shirts. However by the year after, I had much more of an understanding of how football was actually more than just 50 lads kicking a penny floater around the school yard at break time; perhaps the game that brought the significance of football home to me was Hereford United 2 Newcastle United 1. Aged 7, I became acutely aware of NUFC’s propensity for abject humiliation on the national stage. Still, at least this game has disappeared into the ether and no-one is likely to resurrect footage of that particular debacle any time soon…

Consequently, with Newcastle United having helpfully stepped aside, the 1972 FA Cup final was a contest between holders Arsenal and the hated Leeds United, who were in search of a potential double. At the time, electrical goods were rare and expensive commodities; I can distinctly remember bringing a couple of friends home from school in the autumn of 1971 to show them our new fridge, with my mam producing the amazing treat of an ice pop each from the tiny freezer component that contractually was required to only ever include a bag of frozen peas. Bird’s Eye, of course. While we were able to keep milk and meat fresh in high summer, we still only had a black and white television, showing only 2 channels; it was a real style icon on legs, with a walnut cabinet and lockable screen door, though my friend from down the street Paul “Sten” Stonehouse’s family had a DER colour one and that’s where I watched the final.

Sten wasn’t actually a football fan; on Saturday afternoons he’d take advantage of his 3 channel luxury by flicking over from World of Sport to watch Brian Cant’s Playaway, which was a kind of prog rock concept album version of kids’ TV; longer, weirder and much more self-indulgent than the prosaic and patronising weekday Play School. However Sten’s older brother Perry (incidentally I’ve never met anyone else in my life named after the Singing Barber, Mr. Como) was a proper football fan and, so he claimed, a leading light in the Leazes End Agro Boys, which was doubtful as he was about 12 at the time. However, he did go to St. James’ Park with his mates, woollen scarf round his neck, silk ones round his wrist, in a Wrangler jacket and pin stripe Oxford bags, which made me idolise him as I’d yet to see a real live game. To this day, I envy his fashion sense.

Back in those days, BBC used to also show little snippets of action from the Scottish Cup final at half time and full time. At that age, I struggled to concentrate on a full game and the first half stalemate at Wembley wasn’t particularly conducive to keeping my childish mind focussed on the match. However, the half time highlights from Hampden did. Try as I might, I simply couldn’t find any footage of the 1972 Scottish Cup final on line, so I’ve no idea if this is actually fact, or whether my memory is playing tricks from 41 years ago. You see, May 6th 1972 marked the day I fell in love with Hibernian FC; one glimpse of that breathtakingly beautiful emerald green shirt with white sleeves and I was smitten; any interest I had in the English final, eventually won by Leeds 1-0 with an Allan Clarke diving header, was gone; I wanted to see more footage of the game at Hampden. For no reason whatsoever (historical and familial ties ought to have made me a supporter of FC Paranoid of Parkhead), I became a Hibs fan, on the day we lost 6-1 in the cup final to Celtic. It makes 2013’s loss seem mild in comparison. Please don’t disabuse my fond, romantic notion by telling me Hibs didn’t play in green that day…

From the start of the 1972/1973 season, I was functionally literate because of the classical education I was in receipt of at Falla Park Juniors, courtesy of class 4 teacher Miss Gartlan, who’d a ‘tache Salvador Dali would have been jealous of. As a result, I did the kind of homework she suggested, by avidly reading each night, even if it was merely every inch of my dad’s Evening Chronicle sports section, rather than the Bancroft Children’s Classics editions of Jane Eyre and Silas Marner she palmed off on me. On a Sunday, my widowed Nan on my mam’s side used to visit us for Sunday lunch. The plates were cleared away by 2pm, which was when Tyne Tees used to show Shoot!, their weekly regional football highlights package, that lagged far behind The Big Match in terms of glamour. While Dad and I watched the football, Nan would read her paper of choice; The Sunday Post. I’ve no idea why she used to opt for Dundee’s version of Völkischer Beobachter, but I’m glad she did as it meant I could read Scottish match reports, once she’d settled down for her snooze in mid-afternoon.

By now, I was 8 years old and a fully-fledged football obsessive, regularly pestering my dad to take me to see a live game, which he finally agreed to do on 25th November 1972, when Leicester City were the visitors to St. James’ Park. Imagine my desolation when the game was postponed on the Thursday, because the Filbert Street outfit had been struck down by a flu epidemic. Dad’s promise to take me to another game soon just didn’t suffice; I was heartbroken. I was even more bereft when the next Newcastle home game came around; Southampton were the visitors on 9th December, but Dad and Mam were going out to some posh Christmas do that night, so he claimed he couldn’t spare the time to take me, making me feel absolutely worthless, as I hunkered over an old transistor, listening to updates on Radio Newcastle. The fact it was freezing outside and ended in a 0-0 draw in no way placated me..

Nan came to babysit me and my 2 year old sister that night, while Mam and Dad went off for chicken in a basket and 50/50 dancing, whatever that was. This was a very rare occurrence and I exploited it wickedly. At that time, my bed time was still around 9pm, about the time Cannon was starting on BBC. Obviously Nan wasn’t to know this and, having checked the telly listings, I knew the following programme was Match of the Day at 10.15; I managed to persuade her, easily enough as I’m a born liar, that I was allowed to stay up to watch this every week because it wasn’t a school night.
The great thing about MotD back then was that they always used to end the programme with very brief highlights taken from Sportscene. Obviously in 1972 there was no way of knowing the results unless you’d either memorised them at tea time, or bought a Saturday evening football special, The Pink, as the Tyneside version was called, but Dad hadn’t bothered to get one, probably as he was going out and a 0-0 draw wouldn’t be the most riveting read. Therefore, it was an utter shock when MotD ended with footage from Hampden of the League Cup final. We won 2-1, gaining revenge on Celtic for May’s humiliation. Obviously I wasn’t old enough to understand the historical significance of this result, but it made me a happy Hibby as I crawled in to bed at the incredibly late hour of 11pm, about half an hour before a bladdered mam and dad waltzed in, having taken a taxi (a taxi mind you…) home from their glamorous social event.

Frankly, to say my parents were “disappointed” in my deceit the night before was an understatement, once Nan told them how late I’d stayed up, but the emotional frost melted in time for Santa to come and the promise of a trip to see Newcastle was part of my Christmas box. For reasons I’m unsure of, I didn’t get to see 2-1 wins against Manchester City on December 23rd or 4-1 versus Sheffield United the week after. Instead, my first trip to St. James’ Park was for the rearranged Leicester City game on Monday 1st January 1973, a very auspicious date I’m sure you’ll agree, which was also the last time New Year’s Day wasn’t a Public Holiday in England, though it was a regional one in the North East. In fact Newcastle United 2 Leicester City 2, a game of which I have no memory whatsoever other than the fact we (me, dad, my cousin John and his dad my Uncle John) were in the Gallowgate Strawberry Corner, was the only fixture played in the English top division that day. As a result, there was neither a Pink to keep as a memento, nor Match of the Day to watch the highlights on that night. However, there was the report in the next day’s Evening Chronicle, alongside an in-depth feature on a certain game that had taken place in Tynecastle, which made me almost faint with joy; not at the opponents, just at the score. You see, as sunderland were in a lower division to Newcastle from 1970 until 1976, my formative football years were spent without the concept of a local rival. Thankfully, I’ve made up for this in terms of contemptuous enmity since, but that’s another matter.

Well done, what a brilliant post that is. :thumbsup:

Ray_
28-05-2013, 03:55 PM
perhaps a certain mr jim scott as well?!!!!!!!!!:aok::thumbsup:

And not forgetting Onion & thier player of the year, Sloop.

MARCHMONT HIBEE
28-05-2013, 04:14 PM
1976-77 Newcastle Utd 2 Hibernian 1 (Ally Scott) We scored first. Pretty much a non stop battle in the Gallowgate until the police intervened. Same day as rangers rioted at Aston Villa. What do I recall ? Long hair , sideburns , Hibees with pit helmets coming off the Edinburgh train and I am sure they had a chant of Hibincolence. I thought it was agreat game although it probably wasnt and with hindsight was probably just on so they could decide if they wanted to buy John Brownlie or John Blackley or even both!!!!!!!We were a bit of a selling club in the 70s:confused:

Si_17
28-05-2013, 04:23 PM
My recently passed grandad was born and bred in Newcastle. It is because of him, I follow the toon with pride.

geordie_hibs
29-05-2013, 12:21 AM
Here's my blog about what it's like to be a Newcastle born & bred Hibs fan -:

http://payaso-del-******.blogspot.co.uk/2013/05/my-heart-is-broken.html

MagicSwirlingShip
29-05-2013, 12:54 AM
Thanks for sharing geordie_hibs , that was a great read.

Whether your from Tyneside or Tipperary, everyone is welcome at Easter Road in my book.

Gutted about Sunday, but more proud than ever to be part of the Hibernian Family.

geordie_hibs
29-05-2013, 08:09 AM
Thanks for sharing geordie_hibs , that was a great read.

Whether your from Tyneside or Tipperary, everyone is welcome at Easter Road in my book.

Gutted about Sunday, but more proud than ever to be part of the Hibernian Family.


Thanks mate; appreciated

Bill Milne
29-05-2013, 08:18 AM
Travelled down for quite a few games at St James. Can't say I have ever felt any affinity, though.

Barman Stanton
29-05-2013, 09:16 AM
Here's my blog about what it's like to be a Newcastle born & bred Hibs fan -:

http://payaso-del-******.blogspot.co.uk/2013/05/my-heart-is-broken.html

Really enjoyable read that. Thanks for sharing.