It was a scene reminiscent of the opening of a western. A train stops and three desperados on fire.
However, it was organized in the Far West of Ayrshire in the early 1960s. The three Hombres heading towards the city were my grandfather and my brother and myself. My grandfather was an indefinite age. We had about eight and six.
It was the first day outside Fitba for my brother and myself. We were veterans of Greenfield Park, which houses Shettleston. We had climbed aboard the iron horse for the most violent shootings – equality of the Scottish junior cup. The place was Darvel. Even as a youngster, I realized that it was a city of a horse. And said that Horse was lame.
But it was a day to be impressed. The train trip was free because grandfather was this example of the working class aristocracy: a train driver. His reputation was improved when he arrived in town, he said to us: “Stay here. I have a little bit to do.
Business? In this little place? What a man.
We ravaged our candies and inflated our chests, proud to be associated with such an enterprising character. Of course, grandfather was heading for the show. We have exceeded time, ridiculed with other young people while their tutors did the same.
Hugh Macdonald has gone from the intensity of Westfalonstadion of Borussia Dortmund …
… with the simplest pleasures to watch Kelty Hearts play in New Central Park
On the road joined the pilgrims by paying tribute to the end, the great Maradona in Naples
Then, found our entrepreneur, we headed for the ground. The exact details of what happened immediately afterwards. But it was an important day. More than 60 years later, I still start outside days.
These mainly include the lower scope of Scottish football. Lucartys, Lesmahagows and Lethams are now the basic food of my weekend trips. But I also ventured with the passport. I paid tribute to Maradona in Seville, Barcelona, Naples and Boca and Argentinos Juniors.
I crossed following Borussia Dortmund in a large part of Germany and in the Western Wonder. I looked at football on five continents.
The trip has encompassed several eras: a young fan of Shettleston and Celtic, a seasonal abandonment holder at Stirling Albion with my two children, a sports editor, and now largely as a football tourist, paid or not remunerated.
Football has consumed a large part of my life. I say that without regret. He has forged family obligations. My brothers send me their point of view regularly. My nephews take stock of weddings and, yup, funeral.
My daughter remembers the day I could not drive for 30 minutes after a Broadwood match because my feet could not feel the clutch or the accelerator. The German crew invokes the walk along the river to the Werder Bremen stadium or at night in Koln when Var, then a newborn, caused chaos.
My son remembers entering the Bombonera with me, then probe the ground. There is a photo of this on the wall of my room but no reminder is necessary.
I tried this article for the purpose of trying to count the stadiums I have visited. But abandoned this idea because of the duration it would take and the certainty that this Aude Dodderer would forget some. And then remember them. And they remember a little more.
Boca Juniors fans show their support during the match against Fierce Rivals River Plate
The experience inside the Boca Juniors Bombonera is the one that will certainly never be forgotten
Watching Brazil playing at the Lusail stadium during the Qatar World Cup was once in a lifetime
A view of the Lusail stadium before the World Cup match between Brazil and Serbia in 2022
They exist somewhere in the tablecloth. There are the spectacular images that easily come to my mind. Walking Juniors of Argentinos at Maradona’s house brings a powerful emotion. I also remember the fear that fear felt by going down the tunnel to the mixed area of the Marakana, which houses the star of Red Belgrade and the impatient anti-ally police.
The Qatar World Cup has satisfied a life ambition to look at Brazil in the biggest spectacle of the earth, this time at the fabulous Lusail stadium. This also gave us – my son and our companion – the opportunity to visit Al Bayt, the stadium known as the tent in the desert.
However, there are land closer to their homes that cause softer but durable memories. The functionality on the road took me to places that did not appear on any life route that I had planned.
The long journey to Fraserburgh and the field with God in the area (there is a church behind the corner flag) the walk through the weekend of Luncarty which reveals a soft park in the Lee of a sweet slope which is the ideal place to park for a match.
The Porte Narnia in Thorviewood which takes one of the reality of Uddingston in the bucolic framework of Robertson Park.
All this, I suppose, which is why I was recruited to write my impressions on the 41 land that house the 42 SPFL clubs. I was a voluntary contributor.
These terrains were a large part of my life, from his grandson, to a father, to be a worker, to be a Fitba flax.
Some land details had to be checked. But the impressions remain strong. The football department in my brain is strangely resilient.
I can tell you a stereotypical range of Ipswich Town from the 1970s. My pin numbers, on the other hand, can be as elusive as George Best on a race towards the goal.
I became an involuntary complex of Scottish senior terrains in the 21st century. I think Kelty or Bonnyrigg were those who finished the whole, but my obsession does not concern the cash register, simply with the visit of the Fitba field.
This is why I am going to take a bremen train to Bielefeld for a little action Buli 2 or descend to Bluebellwood behind my house (more precisely described as a hut of heels) for a place of action of the Caledonian league.
SPFL terrains were, of course, mainly visited for the first time in the 1960s and 1970s. Many first appeared at the end of supporters’ bus trips where most of the time transport ashamed to the capacity of these containers in the ocean. In simple terms, we all had a cargo.
Playing towards the church in the wonderfully eccentric area in Fraserburgh
Darvel’s Recreation Park, where it all started for Hugh Macdonald in the 1960s
Catching Action as Thorviewood United play Rangers Kilwinning in Robertston Park
But there was an enthusiasm about visiting the land that had never been attenuated by alcohol. It remains to this day.
The land to which I have accessed through rounds that serve and on large terraces have largely become the paradise of the smart card and bucket seat.
However, their meaning has not changed. The field of a football fan is his castle. It can be tanned by past battles and needing the care of the historic Scotland, but there remains at the house of memories and hope.
My list is intended to classify them. I did it with subjectivity and fantasy that can annoy it. Everything will disagree, of course.
However, this is the point. Each stage has a meaning for the individual fan to which no one else can access. However, we can agree that the reasons are much more than stains to kick a ball. They are important to all of us.
At the time of dogs of 2024, around 60 years later, I returned to the playground, Darvel. It was cold, wet and prematurely dark on a Saturday afternoon. But it was also glorious and warming. I remembered my childhood, disappeared for a long time, Shettleston FC, now gone, and my grandfather, with a grievance. All this should be irreparably sad. But that was not the case.
It is a privilege to remember. For that and much more, I am grateful to fitba ‘and wherever it is played.
■ Do not miss the 41 senior fields of Scotland classified from the worst to the best … Where will it end the land of your club?
■ Catter the final list of Hugh Macdonald this week, only on www.dailymail.co.uk/scotland
