20th April 2025. Hampden Park, Glasgow.
May the Lord level in the dust those who would deprive the people of their liberty. — John Hampden
Celtic playing St. Johnstone in the latter stages of the cup puts me in mind of their 1969 League Cup final meeting, the plucky Saints against the mighty Celts. The former have had few big days out in Glasgow, but can point to a cup double in season 2020/21, in one of the most unusual campaigns of recent times. But then, everything was unusual at that time.
Getting a ticket was always going to be a struggle, so I was very grateful to friend and running clubmate Linda for allowing me to use her wee arrangement with Hampden. Determined to take a different route to Glasgow, I hopped on the train to Camelon and, after a brief brish with over 450 motorbikes at the Falkirk Wheel, I joined the canal into Glasgow. On a glorious sunny day, it was a joyful ride, with a coffee en route at the Stables in Kirkintilloch on my way in. The building would once have been a rest stop for boatmen and horses working the canal, it is now just as welcome for walkers and cyclists. Thoroughly recommended.
I arrived in enough time to enjoy some pre-match in the relatively new Rose Reilly pub. Celts and Saints happily imbibing together, was nice. And the pub is a gem – reborn from the old Hampden Bar, it now holds lots of photos and memorabilia to Scotland’s only world cup winner.
The match was, it must be said, anti-climactic. A stroll in the sun for the champions, with them running out 5-0 winners without really breaking sweat. McGregor was given ages to pick his spot for the opener on 34 mins, and they were 4 up by half time. Game over. Jota’s neat finish for the fifth was the pick of the goals, still not sure how he could score from that angle. Saints did score one, a real screamer from McKenzie Kirk, from well out, but VAR chalked it off for a foul on Idah in the build up.
The Saints fans were there in modest numbers, and undermined their reputation a tad with some pyros.
Celtic rehearsed much of their broad repertoire of songs, and the Green Brigade were vocal throughout, going ‘taps-aff’ for much of the second half, the glare off the peely-wally flesh something of a hindrance to my viewing pleasure. I did have a great view, mind you, not something one normally associates with Hampden, and I enjoyed my afternoon. I even did the wee huddle thing that Celtic do, with their backs to the game, oddly enough. Suspect those around me were well aware that I wasn’t a commited Celt, but they were great.
I do wonder what it’s like, though, to just win all the time. There was little genuine euphoria. The goal celebrations muted, to the point of being routine. You’ve reached a cup final! Any other club’s fans would be extactic! But no, another one done – see yeez in the final.
I felt sorry for them. Genuniely.
And so, at last, to the final. Where Aberdeen await.
Scottish Cup, 2024-25:
Matches: 9
Goals: 28
Total miles cycled: 244.96
Pies: 5
Grounds visited: 8
In the Hat 
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