My father was a railwayman and, although he did his level best to derail my interest because he believed I should do more with my life than he did with his, the railway was subcutaneous in me from the age of three.
I’ve never written down an engine number in my life, but the railway – here, there or anywhere – completes me.
Another thing which completes me to this day is his boyhood team: Inverness Caley, as it was known then, and as I still call it now. There was no mention of the word “Thistle” in our house, for true intra-city football rivalry reasons, and nothing whatsoever to do with the ennui of the west of Scotland’s obsession with religion and Irish history.
We shared many a happy 90 minutes at Telford Street Park. Just as idyllic childhood summers always seemed hot and sunny and winters cold and snowy, I don’t recall many defeats. Quite the reverse.
My childhood was trophy-laden and, until I got a job working on the Saturday sports programme with Moray Firth Radio at the age of 16, my weekends saw cup after cup and flag after flag come our way.
To this day, I can rattle off the “MacDonald, Davidson, Mann, Corbett and Summers…” team sheet mantra. These men were, and still are, gods to me. If you told me then that my battling little club would win the Scottish Cup at Hampden and play in Europe a generation later, then reach the final again a decade on, I’d have exhorted you to put more water in it.
We followed our favourites by train on those halcyon Highland League Saturdays at the caprice of the fixture list. Home to Forres Mechanics was followed by away to Nairn County – train trip. Home to Brora Rangers was followed by away to Elgin City – train trip.
I’ll leave it to you to work out whether or not we drouths visited the Railway Club in each of these hamlets to slake our thirsts before and after each game.
We only came unstuck once, when we arrived innocently off the train at Keith shortly before 3pm to find that we’d missed half the match because the paucity of floodlights at Kynoch Park had demanded an early kick-off.
These Saturday sojourns were facilitated by normal passenger trains, because the old football specials had long hit the buffers. Everyone had a car or preferred the door to door supporter’s bus instead.
Anyway, football fans in those days were far better behaved and sported accoutrements like rattles, pom-pom tammies and scarves in team colours knitted by their mams, shirts and ties, clean songs and the occasional screw-top. It was the only way to watch your team away from home. Changed days.
Underdogs marginalised yet again
So, fast forward to this weekend’s Scottish Cup final, when the descendants of my heroes – yes, the ones with the T-word in the name – will take the field against Celtic. Whilst this is a fixture which makes David and Goliath look like a tea dance, there is always the chance of a cup upset. And, while I would never bet against my own team, I am not confident. But I will be there and I will go by train.
I was also at the April Hampden semi-final, which had the grotesquely early kick-off time of 12.15pm. The Scottish Football Association clearly had little interest in the arrangements of the Inverness fans, because there was no way those travelling by train could get there in time. Surely they couldn’t make the same scheduling mistake twice for the final?
Because of lucrative TV money involved by avoiding a clash with the English FA’s 3pm Wembley equivalent, the final will kick-off at the ridiculous time of 5.30pm, meaning those travelling by rail won’t make the last train home. This shows desperate disregard for Inverness supporters not once but twice within weeks. But I guess we shouldn’t be surprised. Underdogs marginalised? Who’d have thought it.
ScotRail saved the day
So, step in gallant ScotRail with a cup final special from Inverness to Glasgow. Admittedly, it doesn’t zip round the Cathcart Circle to deposit the faithful at Hampden like the old specials did, necessitating another leg of the journey.
Long gone are the days when everything was managed by the same team, when diversions posed no problems and the customer came first
Privatisation’s hangover makes it complicated and expensive for trains to be run by one company over a different company’s infrastructure. Long gone are the days when everything was managed by the same team, when diversions posed no problems and the customer came first.
The fare isn’t cheap and the timings are tight, especially if the game (and I have everything crossed as I write this) goes to extra time and penalties. Then there is the thorny issue of a drinks ban. But, hopefully, the railway company makes a few quid as they take thousands of fans home to Inverness, happy after more Hampden hoopla from our heroes.
Mike Edwards OBE was the face of the evening news on STV for more than 25 years and is a published author, a charity trustee and a serving Army Reservist
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