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Next Saturday At Stirllng


Jaggernaut
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Next Saturday will be the 39th anniversary of the most glorious day in living memory if you're a Thistle fan of a certain generation.....

 

It looks like the current team is gaining in confidence and starting to get the kinds of results that we prefer (OK, the displays aren't there yet).

 

It would be superb to get a huge Jags following to Forthbank next week in celebration.

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Next Saturday will be the 39th anniversary of the most glorious day in living memory if you're a Thistle fan of a certain generation.....

It looks like the current team is gaining in confidence and starting to get the kinds of results that we prefer (OK, the displays aren't there yet).

 

It would be superb to get a huge Jags following to Forthbank next week in celebration.

 

Alas for those of us not of that generation, the 23rd of October signifies another year passing with no sign of having a day half as enjoyable as 71 appears to have been :(. Sooo jealous of the older Jags fans for having the memories of such a success!

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I was 13 days short of my 12th birthday - (I am still short but am tragically now much older). At that age, as you can imagine, there is a limited amount of self doubt/awareness in most things that you do. I had just witnessed the team charge through the old 2nd division and, to me, there was little or no doubt that they would win (although persistent nagging "common sense" told me that in reality they probably wouldn't). My late dad must have sensed this blind-optimism and tried to temper it as best he could - I aways remember on the morning of the match he sat me down and said "Now, you wont be too disappointed when they lose?" ............... I knew he was only trying to save me from myself and it was the right thing to say and I always think it was an enormously paternal thing to do. Thankfully he was wrong (for the right reasons). A day that will never be forgotten , nor tragically a day that will ever be repeated I fear.

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Though next Saturday is the exact anniversary of that day we'll all never forget, whether there or not, it would be better, especially in the current climate, if everyone made the effort to go to the home game the following week and celebrate the 1971 anniversary then whilst giving money to our OWN club.

 

Saying all that, the next two matches are crucial and if we can take six points we will be right back in the hunt for challenging for a top four finish, which may well be enough to get us into a reconstructed SPL should it be forced through this season which I reckon could very well be on the cards.

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Though next Saturday is the exact anniversary of that day we'll all never forget, whether there or not, it would be better, especially in the current climate, if everyone made the effort to go to the home game the following week

:o Hey, this is a home game for Jaggernaut and it's his feckin' thread!!!!

 

:D

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Though next Saturday is the exact anniversary of that day we'll all never forget, whether there or not, it would be better, especially in the current climate, if everyone made the effort to go to the home game the following week and celebrate the 1971 anniversary then whilst giving money to our OWN club.

 

Saying all that, the next two matches are crucial and if we can take six points we will be right back in the hunt for challenging for a top four finish, which may well be enough to get us into a reconstructed SPL should it be forced through this season which I reckon could very well be on the cards.

 

Heard on the radio that it's likely to be a 14 team SPL next season, will be rubber stamped in January or something. Stupid imo, its got to be a 16 team top league but maybe they are working up to that :unknw:

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I've missed my last couple of mortgage payments, I couldn't make them as I was a bit short the last couple of months because I wanted to go on holiday and thought that was more important. Trouble is, the council tax and electricity bills are now due and I can't pay them on my credit card coz I spent the limit on a new car, new clothes and dirty women. I should really have got the weans new shoes for school but I wanted to go to the bookies instead.

 

Wonder if Stirling Alion will give me a hand-out?

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Anyone remember the game in the rain at Stirling on the 25th (?) anniversary of 1971? Out on the terracing with a bunch of older Jags fans singing 1971-vintage songs! Maskrey and Billy Macdonald scored as I remember, and when they were trying to cram us into the stand they gave us paper towels to dry the seats..

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Anyone remember the game in the rain at Stirling on the 25th (?) anniversary of 1971? Out on the terracing with a bunch of older Jags fans singing 1971-vintage songs! Maskrey and Billy Macdonald scored as I remember, and when they were trying to cram us into the stand they gave us paper towels to dry the seats..

 

 

I remember that mate. If my memory serves me right a couple of Thistle fans ended up geting jailed.

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In recent years, following Thistle, I’ve had the privilege of talking to a number of younger diehard fans who weren’t around on that famous day. I’ve been called a lucky bugger, as well as other things, and I am. Besides seeing my children being born, that was simply the best day of my life and always will be.

 

 

I’ve described the game action itself in the past 2 or 3 years, on the forum, on the anniversary, but I want to focus here on the personal buzz and the level of euphoria that myself and other older Jags, many of whom are still around at games, experienced that day.

 

I’ll try to explain it in this way -

 

Imagine a week made up like this:

(Insert your own personal and hedonistic preferences – these are my own).

 

 

Monday – I receive a (genuine) phone call from Scarlett Johansson telling me that she’s on her way over to my place right now to have a wild, stormy 20 hour session with me and that’s she’s feeling totally insatiable and “anything goes”.

 

Tuesday – A helicopter arrives outside my front door to take me the three miles to Whindyke Farm (a big field on the outskirts of Blackpool) where an all day concert is being held for my personal pleasure, and will feature the reincarnated Charlie Parker, Stan Getz, Art Pepper, Buddy Rich and Chet Baker. Lunch consists of a buffet of all my favourite local and international dishes and unlimited cold Beck’s Vier lager on draught, and I am waited on by topless Emmerdale hotties.

 

The afternoon performance features sets by my ten favourite rock bands and artistes, followed by more delicious food and drink.

 

Wednesday – The UK is declared a democratic socialist republic and all jobs are pronounced safe for life with working hours halved and pay trebled for everyone. The NHS and all other public services are proclaimed safe for eternity and free at the point of need.

 

Thursday – The World Health Organisation announces effective cures for cancer, heart disease and HIV/Aids.

 

Friday – Global poverty is eradicated for once and for all.

 

Saturday – The pope and the queen announce their respective resignations and solemnly declare a permanent end to all royalty and religion worldwide.

 

Sunday – Both arms of the Old Firm officially go bust and the new government puts a lifetime ban on their resurrections.

 

Oh, and Scarlett comes onto the phone again begging for our recent liaison to become a weekly event.

 

 

If you can imagine a week like that – with your own preferences inserted – then I can tell you that it would still be completely crap compared to the feeling that I and all other Jags present at the world’s greatest ever football event experienced on Saturday the 23rd of October 1971. Just far too good to be explained by words alone.

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In recent years, following Thistle, I’ve had the privilege of talking to a number of younger diehard fans who weren’t around on that famous day. I’ve been called a lucky bugger, as well as other things, and I am. Besides seeing my children being born, that was simply the best day of my life and always will be.

 

 

I’ve described the game action itself in the past 2 or 3 years, on the forum, on the anniversary, but I want to focus here on the personal buzz and the level of euphoria that myself and other older Jags, many of whom are still around at games, experienced that day.

 

I’ll try to explain it in this way -

 

Imagine a week made up like this:

(Insert your own personal and hedonistic preferences – these are my own).

 

 

Monday – I receive a (genuine) phone call from Scarlett Johansson telling me that she’s on her way over to my place right now to have a wild, stormy 20 hour session with me and that’s she’s feeling totally insatiable and “anything goes”.

 

Tuesday – A helicopter arrives outside my front door to take me the three miles to Whindyke Farm (a big field on the outskirts of Blackpool) where an all day concert is being held for my personal pleasure, and will feature the reincarnated Charlie Parker, Stan Getz, Art Pepper, Buddy Rich and Chet Baker. Lunch consists of a buffet of all my favourite local and international dishes and unlimited cold Beck’s Vier lager on draught, and I am waited on by topless Emmerdale hotties.

 

The afternoon performance features sets by my ten favourite rock bands and artistes, followed by more delicious food and drink.

 

Wednesday – The UK is declared a democratic socialist republic and all jobs are pronounced safe for life with working hours halved and pay trebled for everyone. The NHS and all other public services are proclaimed safe for eternity and free at the point of need.

 

Thursday – The World Health Organisation announces effective cures for cancer, heart disease and HIV/Aids.

 

Friday – Global poverty is eradicated for once and for all.

 

Saturday – The pope and the queen announce their respective resignations and solemnly declare a permanent end to all royalty and religion worldwide.

 

Sunday – Both arms of the Old Firm officially go bust and the new government puts a lifetime ban on their resurrections.

 

Oh, and Scarlett comes onto the phone again begging for our recent liaison to become a weekly event.

 

 

If you can imagine a week like that – with your own preferences inserted – then I can tell you that it would still be completely crap compared to the feeling that I and all other Jags present at the world’s greatest ever football event experienced on Saturday the 23rd of October 1971. Just far too good to be explained by words alone.

Throw in a bit of Sonny Rollins or Coltrane to your Tuesday and squeeze in somewhere during the week the addition of a considerable volume of Bruichladdich (non-chilled filtered 46% sherry casked variety) and I feel we're getting there. :thumbsup2:

Btw if I do post anything else this evening please just completely ignore. As to why, the hint's in the above paragraph and it's got little to do with jazz musicians.

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I was on the terracing beneath the North Stand that day with my dad. A Celtic fan gave me his scarf at the end of the game (no segregation) and said we deserved it. The best thing is 39 years later my dad and I will be at Forthbank tomorrow, I can't think of any better way to spend a Saturday afternoon.

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I was on the terracing beneath the North Stand that day with my dad. A Celtic fan gave me his scarf at the end of the game (no segregation) and said we deserved it. The best thing is 39 years later my dad and I will be at Forthbank tomorrow, I can't think of any better way to spend a Saturday afternoon.

 

Couldn't agree more. We were in the 'Rangers end' and of course it was around a third Jags and two thirds Tims in there. Unlike the sporting Celtic fan you bumped into, the mob in our end got quite nasty, kicking off with our fans at half-time and for a bit after that. Even so, still the best day in the world ever.

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I remember that mate. If my memory serves me right a couple of Thistle fans ended up geting jailed.

If my memory serves me right, I was escorted from the premises that day by two of "Her Majestys'Finest" My partner in "crime", Slim Jim was escorted by 4/6 of of them (he is a big lad)

We were warned at last weeks game by a certain Mr Kettlewell of this parish that we should be on our best behaviour this week.

To this day, Slim doesn't even tell his Good Lady if we are playing there, in case she doesn't let him go.

I will see you all there tomorrow but I won't be driving the supporters bus. (just in case)

Edited by joe the driver
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If my memory serves me right, I was escorted from the premises that day by two of "Her Majestys'Finest" My partner in "crime", Slim Jim was escorted by 4/6 of of them (he is a big lad)

We were warned at last weeks game by a certain Mr Kettlewell of this parish that we should be on our best behaviour this week.

To this day, Slim doesn't even tell his Good Lady if we are playing there, in case she doesn't let him go.

I will see you all there tomorrow but I won't be driving the supporters bus. (just in case)

 

:thumbsup:

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In recent years, following Thistle, I’ve had the privilege of talking to a number of younger diehard fans who weren’t around on that famous day. I’ve been called a lucky bugger, as well as other things, and I am. Besides seeing my children being born, that was simply the best day of my life and always will be.

 

 

I’ve described the game action itself in the past 2 or 3 years, on the forum, on the anniversary, but I want to focus here on the personal buzz and the level of euphoria that myself and other older Jags, many of whom are still around at games, experienced that day.

 

I’ll try to explain it in this way -

 

Imagine a week made up like this:

(Insert your own personal and hedonistic preferences – these are my own).

 

 

Monday – I receive a (genuine) phone call from Scarlett Johansson telling me that she’s on her way over to my place right now to have a wild, stormy 20 hour session with me and that’s she’s feeling totally insatiable and “anything goes”.

 

Tuesday – A helicopter arrives outside my front door to take me the three miles to Whindyke Farm (a big field on the outskirts of Blackpool) where an all day concert is being held for my personal pleasure, and will feature the reincarnated Charlie Parker, Stan Getz, Art Pepper, Buddy Rich and Chet Baker. Lunch consists of a buffet of all my favourite local and international dishes and unlimited cold Beck’s Vier lager on draught, and I am waited on by topless Emmerdale hotties.

 

The afternoon performance features sets by my ten favourite rock bands and artistes, followed by more delicious food and drink.

 

Wednesday – The UK is declared a democratic socialist republic and all jobs are pronounced safe for life with working hours halved and pay trebled for everyone. The NHS and all other public services are proclaimed safe for eternity and free at the point of need.

 

Thursday – The World Health Organisation announces effective cures for cancer, heart disease and HIV/Aids.

 

Friday – Global poverty is eradicated for once and for all.

 

Saturday – The pope and the queen announce their respective resignations and solemnly declare a permanent end to all royalty and religion worldwide.

 

Sunday – Both arms of the Old Firm officially go bust and the new government puts a lifetime ban on their resurrections.

 

Oh, and Scarlett comes onto the phone again begging for our recent liaison to become a weekly event.

 

 

If you can imagine a week like that – with your own preferences inserted – then I can tell you that it would still be completely crap compared to the feeling that I and all other Jags present at the world’s greatest ever football event experienced on Saturday the 23rd of October 1971. Just far too good to be explained by words alone.

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