Hoops Dreams by Ryan McManus

It is mid September. I leap out of my bed and immediately look at my calendar. It reads just as I had hoped. Celtic V AC Milan. I get changed into my school uniform and race downstairs. I can’t wait until tonight: it’s all I can think about. I know the plan for the day. At the end of school my dad will pick me up at three thirty sharp. My brother will already have finished school at three o’clock and him and my dad will already be changed. We’ll be in a big rush. The game starts at quarter to eight but the traffic will be unbelievable. At the bus all I keep saying to my friends is “I’m going to the game tonight!” The journey on the bus is no different, I’m so elated.

School however is a different matter. I can’t concentrate on any of my work and I get shouted at a lot for daydreaming. It’s not my fault. The bell rings for the end of the day and I dash out of school and run as fast as my legs can carry me to where my dad is sitting waiting for me.

“Well done for getting here on time, Ryan,” said dad. “Is Owen back at the house getting everything ready”? I reply “Yep I told him to have everything ready for the time we get back,” he answered.

We are in a mad rush and I only have five minutes, if that, to get changed. I manage to get changed within my time limit and I run downstairs and sprint over to the car. We’re sitting in the car waiting for my dad who is probably triple checking he has the tickets, which he always does because if we do forget them, its not like we can just nip back and get them, we live in St. Andrews, nearly two hours away. We leave the house for four o’clock and by the time we reach Kincardine Bridge my brother and I have already managed to eat our way through two chocolate bars each, a bag of crisps and two Nutri-Grains. Fortunately my brother has brought enough food to last us a lifetime.

As we expected the traffic is hellish and it has taken us an hour and a half to reach the Kincardine Bridge. A lot of it is football traffic but it doesn’t help that it’s half past five, the time that people are just finishing their work. The rest of the journey takes a further hour and three-quarters and this is mainly due to the thousands of supporters all travelling to the game. We arrive where we usually park at about quarter past seven, but there are no parking spaces. Eventually somebody comes out of their house and very kindly lets us park in front of their driveway. It’s half past seven, only fifteen minutes to walk up to the ground and get into our seats.

Walking up to the ground there are about one hundred stands selling scarves, badges and shirts saying “C’mon the hoops.” I look up and the moon lights up the sky like a fire lights up a forest. The closer we get to the ground the more the atmosphere grows. There are a few people standing outside the ground trying to sell gold dust tickets for the game. My dad, brother and I struggle to fight our way through the masses of people to where we must enter the ground. Innumerable people are singing and it is really, really tumultuous.

We eventually manage to get into the ground after about ten minutes of queuing and this enables us to miss the huddle and the traditional belting out of “You’ll Never Walk Alone”. We do however make it in for kick off. The atmosphere in the ground is implausible. I thought the noise outside the ground was loud but this is incredible.

About twenty minutes into the game the fans are still in full voice, including myself. Five minutes later Jan Vennegoor of Hesselink opens the scoring with a wonderful diving header and the whole ground erupts. The supporters behind us chuck my brother and me up and we are thrown about six rows back I cannot describe how I am feeling at the moment. Celtic have just taken the lead against AC Milan and I am one of only sixty thousand people to have witnessed this remarkable moment up close. This is the noisiest experience of my life and I can’t remember feeling so happy. The atmosphere is out of this world and as the game reaches halftime the Celtic fans have contributed to one of the best forty-five minutes of my life.

In the second half the atmosphere is still amazing but the fans are much tenser. I think it has just sunk in that Celtic are only forty minutes away from one of the best results in their history. Every chance that AC Milan misses is greeted with a loud “waaaaayyyyyyyyy” from the home support. The game reaches the last quarter and the fans are now just urging their players on, encouraging them. After seventy-one minutes of singing and encouragement from the home fans Kaka breaks our hearts after converting a soft penalty. Celtic Park goes silent for the first time. I am drowned in sadness and I can’t help but think I am not alone.

The game rapidly approaches the end and every missed chance is greeted with a groan from both sets of supporters. The fourth official holds up his board and it shows the number four. Celtic Park bursts into life. After three minutes of desperate attacks from both sides Celtic win a corner. The sound of clapping and shouting is deafening. Nakamura swings in a poor ball with his left foot but the ball breaks to Gary Caidwell who decides to try his luck. His shot is stopped well by the AC Milan keeper but he spills it and Scott McDonald taps it in for the most important goal he will ever score. I am now almost crying with joy and the singing resumes. AC Milan don’t even have time to take centre before the referee blows his whistle. A roar goes up all around Celtic Park and two minutes later a sea of green and white begins to sing “You’ll Never Walk Alone”. I don’t think I’ll ever experience this again. I will treasure this moment for the rest of my life.

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