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These things happen and do not get mentioned enough. My brother, a happy Hoopie, regularly shows up outside the Big Green Biscuit tin two hours and more before the kick off. Bless him, for he is there to see the team bus arrive. His complaint recently has been that when the squad does arrive they hardly crack a smile at those assembled supporters. Some can barely take their stares away from the ground as they rumble their way inside. One of these days, he swears, he will write to Mr Lawford about this. At five to five on Saturday I was passing by the outside of Firhill and there was the figure, in red training top, hunkered down on the step in the cold damp of a January evening, speaking with a young person in a wheelchair and another small person who might have been no more than seven years old. "It must have been really cold for your toes" I hear the figure in red with the letters "AA" emblazoned on the front say. "Good game" I call out not wishing to impose myself too much on their moment, and Archie responds with a hearty "Thanks". As I walk away I reflect, not for the first time, that it is great to be a part of something that is different.