A sighting of the Oakville True Blues banner at the Placa do Pedro was confirmation that Calum had arrived from Canada and we soon hooked up with him, JP from Dunoon, a group from Lurgan (not a bigot amongst them!) and the Smokie Bears from Arbroath. Pretty soon our numbers were boosted as more of the troops began to arrive, the Larky Derry and the Penny Loyal banners were unfurled and a nice wee sing-song ensued.
The Pic-Nic Bar had abandoned its sexist pricing policy by selling all beer in plastic tumblers but, surprise surprise, they´ve hiked the price up to five euros. Mind you, its a fair measure, more than half a litre, so there aren´t too many complaints. But we are well pissed off to be constantly pestered by beggars (not the Glasgow variety!), with one in particular being very persistent with Calum, showing him pics of her daughter and pleading for a donation. The big man didn´t take too kindly to the suggestion that he might be the father!!!
With T-bone steaks at €8.20, me and the good lady have kicked our diets into touch. Washed down with a nice drop of port, this is indeed the life. The Pink Panther from Coleraine has been on the blower to make arrangements to meet up on matchday. He was calling from Barcelona where they have stopped off on the way to Lisbon and, remembering how he had a gold chain nicked when we went to the Nou Camp in November, I´ll bet he was a man on a mission as he marched up and down the Ramblas.
We went back to ´the wee ice cream shop´ for the Champions League fitba and a huge cheer went up when Roma were awarded a penalty, only for the silly bugger to sky it over the crossbar. With the Premiership teams in the semis for the second year on the trot, the reputation of the English game has never been stronger. If only we´d had a man of vision in charge a few years ago, we could have cultivated the new breed of ambitious young directors calling the shots and might have earned ourselves a place in their set-up.
By now Lisbon was well populated with Bears and from various bars and cafes our good Christian music boomed out loud and clear. Suddenly I had a real good feeling about this trip. Once the main contingent get into town, we´ll really get the place rocking
Thursday (pre-match): COME ON OVER TO MY PLACE
This is what following the Rangers is all about. Its as if somebody had thrown a massive red, white and blue blanket over the centre of Lisbon, with every corner you turn, every pub you go into, kicking off a rapturous meet and greet session. And despite all the doom and gloom which followed last week´s 0-0 draw, I detected an air of confidence amongst the troops.
The Oakville True Blues banner was like a magnet, with everybody and anybody seeming to be wanting a photo, and Calum was delighted to bask in the glory. Having brought over quite a few of his club´s badges, he was a very popular figure as he handed them out. But I had to tell him that, if he started dishing out sweeties at the toilet door, he would be on his own!!!
Stef from Castle Street was telling us how he was up to the stadium first thing in the morning and persuaded the security guy to let him in. I understand a photo of him on the pitch with their banner was due to appear in the Evening Tims. The Placa do Pedro was now packed solid with Bears, the mood was good-natured and the local polis were quite happy to loiter in the background.
We had a laugh with one of the buskers who had managed to master the opening line of The Sash on his accordian. Unfortunately, he never got beyond that point and it got very irritating to hear him playing the same line over and over again.
"Hey pal, we know its old and its beautiful but whit aboot the feckin colours?"
All the songs, old and new, were getting big licks but I´m afraid I have an issue with our latest tribute to King Carlos. Yes, he may be the love of my life but I won´t be entertaining any thoughts of him dallying with my wife. I wouldn´t wish that on my worst enemy, never mind a Rangers legend in the making. By the way, he was probably no more than three or four the last time she and I shared the same bed!!! The very notion darkened the mood for me, for a few seconds anyway.
I enjoyed a wee chat with Number One´s Dr Smoulder from KP. We go back a long way to a time when foreign trips were the preserve of the chosen few. We were proud to include ourselves in that elite band. Seeing so many youngsters on this trip, I just hope they appreciate how lucky they are to be European veterans at such an early stage. Unlike so many recent trips, it was great to find match tickets freely available. Clearly Sporting recognised the likelihood of many us arriving without tickets and made an area avalable next to the official Rangers End.
As the afternoon progressed, more Bears arrived, we met up with the Pink Panther and the Blue Beret, the atmosphere built up and, by the time we were piling into the Metro to head out to the ground, there was magic in the air. There was no way Rangers were going to lose this one.
Thursday (the game): ARE YOU CELTC IN DISGUISE?
Can it get any better than this? I´ve had some great nights with Rangers in Europe but this one was right up there with the best of them. There was a confidence and composure about the way our team went about its business and it has certainly made me believe that all things are possible with this team.
Five thousand Bears had taken over one corner of the ground and, although the crowd of 31,155 was well short of capacity, the atmophere was very special. As the team came on to the pitch, the home crowd unfurled a huge ´The Real Lions Of Lisbon´ banner, a not so subtle dig at our nearest and dearest. It went down well with us.
As always, the seemingly mandatory Irish tricolours were on show amongst the home crowd. With Sporting´s colours being equally iffy, I don´t suppose we should be too surprised but why the big feckin shamrock in he middle. Where in Ireland is Lisbon? UEFA really have to do something about this. These flags are flown for one reason and one reason alone: to provoke trouble. And we all know who will be in the dock if any of us take the bait.
Our fears that JCD´s early miss might return to haunt us came to nothing. Sure, there were a few close calls around Allan McGregor but I felt Rangers were always in control. Even if Sporting were to score, it wouldn´t change our game plan. Just like it was in Athens, one goal would do it for us and when Darch did the needful after an hour it was party time. Watching from the dear seats, the Rangers End was a sight to behold, bouncey-bounceying all the way through the final half-hour.
And Steven Whittaker really put the icing on the cake with an absolute peach of a goal right at the end. He won´t score a batter or more important goal if he plays on long into his forties. Even the bookings which rule Barry and KT out of the first leg of our semi couldn´t cloud our night. And when some Bears got a bit annoyed when they found out Bayern Munich had got out of jail at Getafe, they were quickly told to forget it, Tricky Dicky´s lot will sort them out, then we can get geared up for a Manchester party.
Meeting up after the game was like an old hippy love in. Everybody was hugging and kissing and, as you would expect, there was no lack of music in the air. With Enclosure Blue and his missus, we found ourselves in a bar called Young Liberty (okay, I lied about my age!) but, with beer at five euros and a wee glass of port at four euros, I knew who was taking liberties. But guess what? We couldn´t care less. Platoon were on the sound system, the Bears were singing along nicely and the Gers were in the semi-final. And as we are not due home until Saturday night, I think it is safe to assume a few ports and more than the occasional Super Bock will cross our lips.
LITTLE BOY BLUE.