There has to be a better way of kicking off a week on tour than chasing around a strange town, sending text messages to a guy you've never met, trying to set up a meet. Mind you, I know a lady who does it all the time! LOL!
Thats how the week started for me and Ladybluesky. We decided to forego the joys of a Sunday afternoon at the Piggery and, via the Follow Follow Messageboard, had arranged to swop a Parkheid ticket for an Osasuna ticket. It was a source of some annoyance to my lady friend that she got a knock-back from the Travel Club, despite being on eight points, while others with a mere two points to their name got tickets by booking the over-priced official package. Rangers' nonsensical ticketing operation would return to haunt them in Pamplona.
After a few false starts, I made contact with Madridbear and headed for Alexandria, texting him to arrange a meet in the Railway Tavern. Silly me, the place is called the Station Bar and, although I remember it as a reasonably Rangers-friendly place in the past, it is something else entirely now. Never mind, we met, shared a few pints, swopped tickets and looked forward to meeting up again in Spain in midweek.
My other half was a wee bit concerned to find that, instead of the standard white UEFA Cup ticket, hers was made out as if it was for a Spanish League game. Surely Madridbear wasn't pulling a stroke! She had got stung with a dud in Villarreal last year and had no wish to again find herself on the outside looking in. Madridbear's explanation, there had been such a rush for tickets that the printer ran out of UEFA Cup paper, forcing them to use La Liga paper, was very plausible but she spent much of the next few days on edge. Oh ye of little faith.
And the same thought crossed my mind as we discussed the possibility of the Gers actually doing some damage at Breezeblock Boulevard. Never having seriously rated Ra Sellick, I saw no reason why we shouldn't give them problems, then I thought back to the shambolic performance against Osasuna last Thursday and recognised that Walter is still struggling to pull things together and get the team moving in the right direction again.
Still worried about the validity of her Osasuna ticket, Ladybluesky endured a restless night and feared the worst for the team next day.
Sunday: Hey It's A Beautiful Day
How on earth did that shower of chancers get to be so far in front of us in the SPL table?
This has to be the question we are all asking after the latest clash with our 'nearest and dearest'. We are only too well aware of our own team's shortcomings and know we only have ourselves to blame for our current plight but, having had all the super-Septic crap rammed down our throats for so long, it was good to see a Rangers team go to their place with a solid gameplan which saw us through the ninety minutes quite comfortably.
We watched the game in the Vic, one of Kilwinning's finer wine bars. Unfortunately, the Beaujolais was off so we had to make do with Andy's excellent amber nectar, courtesy of those very nice people from Tennent's. If this doesn't get you a long overdue invite to their box at Ibrox, Andy, nothing will! Despite so much pre-match doom and gloom, the mood amongst the troops was good and it turned out to be a very enjoyable afternoon.
After an uncomfortable first half-hour, during which a certain former Rangers employee seemed to be shooting at the pigeons in the San Giro rafters, our guys settled into the game, took everything which came at them (which was not a lot), then threatened to do a bit of damage on the break. For all his faults, Filip Sebo is a great worker and his speed, power and stamina kept the gruesome twosome of McManus and Pressley - one pace and nae pace! - pinned back in their own half for much of the game.
Full marks to Walter on this one. Gordon The Garden Gnome sure talks a good game but, with one Ranger tying down two of his men, he found his lot outnumbered in other areas and, long before the end, all he had to offer was the standard hit-and-hope towards the big boy with the big name. David Weir and Ugo Ehiogu mopped it up comfortably. You have to wonder what the league table would look like today if PLG had sorted out our defensive uncertainty instead of persisting with a set-up which clearly wasn't working.
Of course, our back men even managed to dawdle forward unnoticed to make an impact at the other end, with Big Ugo hooking in a peach of a goal just after half-time. The cry of 'Feckin Baaaaasaaa' echoed around the Vic, causing us to worry if we'd been infiltrated by one of the other mob. Amidst visions of some serious assault and battery taking place, the mood eased when it became clear the mouthful came from a fellow Bear who had actually backed David Weir to get the first goal. Ach well, you win some, you lose some.
Much good Christian music filled the air for the next few hours but, with us heading for Pamplona via Liverpool and Reus (near Barcelona), we had to check out of the celebrations a wee bit early.
Monday: That Monday Morning Feeling
It's a long while since I've felt so good on a Monday morning. Unfortunately, with no Scottish papers on the newsstands at Liverpool Airport, we didn't get to savour the output of our Hack Packers. But I've ordered a few mates to hold on to the papers until I get back so I'm certainly looking forward to reliving events of last weekend.
After leaving the Vic, we had a few hours kip to make sure we were in good shape for the four hour drive to Liverpool. Just after ten o'clock, I decided to pop across to the Market to do a bit of gloating but, oh what a surprise, Timothy and his crowd, who have been threatening to turn a good pub into a Green & Grey Slophouse, are nowhere to be seen. Never mind, the smiles on the faces of those around the bar told their own story. The smart-arsed one -liners can wait until next week, I'm sure I'll have thought up a few more by then.
The drive was trouble free, we got to the airport well ahead of schedule but, unfortunately, the bars don't open until 5 a.m. So we strolled around, admired how good the likeness of the bronze-statue is to John Lennon, although the woman then had to throw in a wee daftie of her own when she said: 'I'm sure he wasn't that big.'
Both a little weary from the drive south, we nodded off on the plane but were in fine fettle when we touched down in Reus. A quick bus ride to the railway station, a wander around the local market as we killed a couple of hours before our train to Pamplona, then we were on the final leg of our journey. I wasn't really looking forward to five hours on a train but it was all very civilized, with TV, piped music and a well-stocked bar in the first class section.
Needless to say, we partook of a few beers and some very nice red wine and found ourselves in conversation with Jean-Francois de Richemonte, a legal consultant from Paris. Noticing an item of jewellery I was wearing, he began to ask a few leading questions and, unsure if I was hearing him correctly, I responded tentatively before an exchange of handshakes confirmed I was in the company of Bro. Jean-Francois de Richemonte.
PLG's name was mentioned in our discussion and I took some comfort when Bro.JF suggested that our former manager might find sorting our Paris St Germain to be an even more testing task than turning Rangers around. I still believe PLG didn't know what he was getting himself into at our club and, had he did a bit more homework before coming here and got the full backing of the Minted One, things could have worked out so differently.
All too soon our journey came to an end but, having said our farewells to our new friend, we were off to explore Pamplona. We were booked into the Pamplona Plaza hotel, which is not nearly as grand as it sounds but, for a two-star rating, it was excellent. A quick shit, shave and shower later, I was heading towards the walled city and was a little disappointed to find that Bears were very thin on the ground on Monday night. So we made do with each others company, followed Madridbears online guide and sorted out the good from the not-so-good as we checked out various bars.
Without a real meal on Monday, the day ended with us enjoying a wonderful helping of steak, egg and chips at the Tropicana, one of the better bars at the Plaza del Castilla. It looked like we'd stumbled in on a get-together from one of the local football clubs, with a crowd of young lads only too willing to chew the fat about the beautiful game. I made it my business to stress the greatness of Rangers and took great delight in pointing out that we have won more major trophies than any other club in the world. Hey, they didn't believe me - would I tell porkies? - but, thankfully, I had the programme from the first leg with me and was able to point to some undeniable facts and figures.
Sometime around two o'clock in the morning our first day in Pamplona came to end with us heading back to our hotel, we enjoyed a wee snifter in the bar, then went to bed. Night, night, sleep tight.
Tuesday: Any Spare Tickets?
It did not pass unnoticed by the good lady that the Pamplona Plaza was next door to the Gran Mundo Chinese Restaurant. 'I wonder if a beef curry and fried rice is the same in Pamplona as it is in Kilwinning,' she said. Having a Ruby Murray at the Gran Mundo was immediately added to our 'to do' list.
We didn't resurface until just after noon so we expected the Plaza del Castilla to be a bit busier than it had been the previous night. However, perhaps with so many Bears basing themselves in places like Santander, there were only about 50 of us scattered around the various pavement cafes. The local TV news reporters were out in force, with their main interest appearing to be the availability of tickets.
Touts had bought up a quota of tickets, the TV people were aware of this and were keen to find out how much Bears were prepared to pay. They got a couple of funny money answers,usually from kids who were already well on their way to being out of their face, and not long afterwards, lo and behold, the touts appeared, no doubt expecting a bumper pay day. They were sent packing. Seven hundred Euros was their asking price but those who might have been tempted to buy opted to sit tight for another day in the hope of the price coming down. Their patience did not go unrewarded.
Over the course of the day, more and more of the Follow Follow brigade arrived in town and their were a few impromptu sing-songs in the various bars. The Windsor was one watering hole which proved very popular with Bears, I met up with JB, the Carmyle Loyalist, who had driven to Pamplona with six of his mates in a people carrier. I had hoped to have a wee natter with Robbie and was very disappointed to learn he was in his pit, catching up on the sleep he had lost during the 22 hour journey.
A quick return to my hotel to freshen up, followed by the much-looked-forward-to Chinese - yes, a beef curry tastes no different from the way it is in Kilwinning! - then a return to the Plaza del Castilla for a few more drinkipoos got the night going along very nicely, although the touts were becoming more and more apparent in their efforts to cash in on our need for tickets. The price had now dropped to €400, one guy ended up offering three for €700, but even he left disappointed as Bears continued to box clever.
Of course, Rangers have a lot to answer for here. Not enough is done to secure a big enough allocation for our support. It is clear they don't want us to follow the team to Europe, unless we pay OTT Travel Club prices, so genuine punters get knock-backs from Ibrox and are forced to look elsewhere. Had it not been for Madridbear's good work in going to Pamplona to get tickets, a few more of us would have been open to exploitation from touts.
Later in the night we spotted a familiar face, Betty from Gourock, and it would appear she was dying of malnutrition. 'Where can I get something half-decent to eat?' she asked, clearly unimpressed by the tapas promotion which was going on. So we led her and her family to the Tropicana and the owner was beginning to worry if I was about to hit on him for commission on the number of Rangers fans I was directing to his establishment. I should be so lucky!
It had been a long day and, with the game to look forward to on Wednesday, we planned to hit the hay about 3 a.m., only to stumble on a nice wee social gathering of about a dozen Bears in our hotel bar. We sure rolled back the years with a few stories and plenty of songs and it was daylight before I finally admitted defeat and headed upstairs.
Wednesday: This Is What Its All About
I awoke to the sound of Ladybluesky talking to God on the big china telephone. Some people just can't hold their drink, although I must admit the sound of her suffering had me thinking I might soon follow her lead. Thankfully, it didn't materialise.
Arriving at the Plaza del Castilla was a great experience. The quiet square of the previous few days had been transformed into a mass of red, white and blue. And where earlier meetings with old pals had been here and there, now every face was a familiar face, rekindling memories of, among other places, Bratislava, Porto, Livorno and Auxerre. This is the wonderful thing about the Rangers family which seems to pass over the heads of those who call the shots at our club. We are not just any old fitba club, we are the Rangers, a proud breed who ain't inclined to apologise for who we are. And despite what some would have you believe, we tend to be very popular on our travels and the feedback I got in Pamplona told me this trip was no different.
The square was getting busier by the hour, with Enclosure Blue and his missus being among the day trippers. I have to say I was very disappointed with their lack of sympathy for Ladybluesky's fragile state. Mind you, that old smoothie Odin and his crew were happy to hold her hand and pat her head. Once she got a wee bit of attention, she was brand new again. And she was certainly very glad to find that she was not the only one with a Spanish League like ticket. Thanks again Madridbear!
News that Atletico Osasuna had put another 300 tickets on general sale gave us a good laugh. The touts were panicking now. They could expect little more than €100 for a ticket - they would be lucky to get that! - and the mood around the square was superb. Not having seen each other since the weekend, many of us enjoyed reliving Sunday and, although the Sheepies victory at Motherwell was not what we wanted, we reached the conclusion that it didn't matter. If we do our own business on Saturday, we will leave them with a helluva lot of ground to make up so we shouldn't need to concern ourselves with results elsewhere.
There was a hilarious incident in the square when two pirate programme sellers almost came to blows over territory. Both programmes sold at €5, one pocket sized job being the usual pirate prog apparently put together by a guy (Juan?) from Madrid, while the other was a more lavish A4 sized magazine which looked pretty official to me. Only when the official programme was handed out free at the turnstiles did I realise I'd bought a pirate publication. It will be very interesting to monitor how much the usual suspects are charging for the three different programmes at Mafeking Street on Saturday.
As kick-off time drew nearer, a number of Osasuna fans found their way on to the square but again the atmosphere was very friendly, with much swopping of scarfs being done. The singing got louder, with our new hero Kaka being hailed to the tune of the Billy Boys. I wondered what Laurence McIntyre would have made of it all. He had plenty to say for himself later but, if he had taken the trouble to drop in on the Plaza del Castilla, he would surely have got some evidence to throw back in UEFA's face the next time they target our club.
The match itself was one to forget. We were better than we were in the first leg but only just. Osasuna were no great shakes either but two balls missed in the air, by Ugo Ehogu and Ian Murray, gave them a chance and they took it. We huffed and puffed after that but never really threatened to save the game. So our last hope of putting in an appearance at Hampden this season died in Pamplona.
Sadly, there was a bit of a rammy in the crowd, the local polis overreacted, as they are prone to do, and Rangers' good name is again on the line. Well, for what its worth, all the Osasuna fans I met before the game were suddenly outnumbered by hate-filled loonies. The green and grey hoops were in evidence in the crowd and Odin counted no fewer than eight tricolours behind the goal. I know St Paddy's Day was real close but where in Ireland is Pamplona? Clearly the wearing of Sellteek strips (and the chants!) and the waving of tricolours was done to provoke us, yet we get portrayed as the villains. Perhaps UEFA should ask questions of Osasuna to find out why their fans behaved in this way. Or were they put up to it by other sinister elements who appear to have turned the world-wide-web into a recruiting station for their dirty work?
It was a disappointing end to a very good day but there was still plenty of singing and good natured banter in town after the game. But the scenes when the polis waded into our crowd left a bad taste in the mouth and we made sure we kept our wits about us for the rest of the night. My heart wasn't in it no more and we left with the Bears still in fine voice around 2 a.m.
Thursday: The Morning After The Night Before
Thinking back on last night's events, I find myself getting really angry with Rangers.
Methinks the club really has to take more care those who travel, instead of just checking for a Travel Club membership and making sure they pay top dollar to be on an official trip.
And something must be done about heavy-handed policing in various countries. We've seen it in Germany, Slovakia and France, where the crash helmet and boiler suit brigade are only too happy to throw their weight around. It should have surprised nobody to find the Spaniards being similarly aggressive. FFS they were 950 men on duty at the game, with no fewer than 27 meatwagons parked up beside the ground. They herded the bulk of our support down a narrow street, pushing and shoving all the way, and anyone who showed any inclination of being less than thankful for being treated this way got rapped with a baton.
I believe Rangers have lodged a complaint about events in Pamplona and that is at least a start. But we mustn't leave it at that. The club has to demand answers, make sure the good name of Rangers and Rangers fans is protected and challenge UEFA to do something about home fans weraring the colours of another club, just to provoke their opponents. Its just not right but we are the ones who end up getting slagged off.
It can't be allowed to continue to be this way.
LITTLE BOY BLUE