In the months afterwards I made a trip to the Celtic Superstore to buy the DVD of the match. I wasn’t ready to watch it but needed to have it nonetheless, for when the time came. I’ve still not opened the box.
I watched the game from high up in the Porto end. The Porto fans were great, allowed us to celebrate with all the enthusiasm you could muster for goals in a European final, then wished us well as we made our way through them and out of the stadium. Had Celtic won while dropping like flies whenever an opponent coughed, it might have been different.
Porto were favourites and would go on to prove how good a team they were by winning the Champions League 12 months later. Their players would demonstrate their prowess across the world for the next decade. They had fabulous talent, so much so, that they should have aspired to better than the gamesmanship used during their run to the Uefa Cup and Champions League wins.
On the field it was a tale of great goals and heroic defeat, off the field, it was one of the most spectacular events in sport.
80,000 Celtic fans made the pilgrimage to Seville and treated the world to a carnival. The city became the scene of one of the largest parties the game had ever known. For me the pre-match schedule involved a two hour trip north before a panicked dash across the city collecting match tickets. What a stress!
There was 10 in our party and collecting the tickets took priority. Once we had them we could afford time to eat, but what? Several restaurants were sold out, we eventually found a café with frozen chips and a meat-based slab of something or other. No choices. No beer, wine or cola either, it was diluting orange juice or water. An entire city was pretty much emptied of food and drink.
You could forget about motorised transport to get to the game, we had to walk from the city to the stadium on the very outskirts of town. It was hot and dry. An enterprising local was selling a retained stash of cola at the side of the road at a hugely inflated price, no one passed him without buying.
This was a journey to a football game, but not one any of us were familiar with.
The long walk home from the game was memorable for the incredible reaction we got from the locals. They applauded each of us as we walked past their homes in recognition of what took place in their city throughout the day. Things like this don’t happen but that day was different. Seville, like Lisbon, will always remember Celtic. Fifa and Uefa made their Fair Play Awards the following year to Celtic fans, a nomination normally reserved for clubs.
I met a German couple in the hotel elevator. “Are you disappointed?” they asked. “No. We were beaten by a good team”. I had celebrated two Celtic goals in a European final and watched as we pushed a tremendously talented team to the brink. Disappointment comes a lot worse than this, although time brought regret.
Seville 2003 was not Lisbion 67 but it was a wonderful occasion in our very proud history. Let’s do it again.
For those who prefer their nostalgia with a bit of silverware, 10 men won the league, 24 years ago today. Big Billy was back and the Celts were in control.
Speaking of Lisbon 67…… Willie’s book, pre-order your signed copy now!
[calameo code=000390171179f475cf1c0 lang=en page=6 hidelinks=1 width=100% height=500]
1,062 Comments- Pages:
- «
- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- ...
- 28
- »
Ok– coming tomorrow— The Only Way is Billy– In a sort of Seville special
brogan rogan trevino and hogan supports kano 1000
12:42 on 21 May, 2013
Don’t tell sally, for God sake…….they’ll come up with a related world record……LOL
Before heading off to Seville i was comparing the date with that of Lisbon & realised that my 3 1/2 year old son was the same age TO THE DAY on 21/5/03 as I was on 25/5/67!!!!
Surely it was an omen, I thought…..
Edinburgh London Zurich Malaga
All you lot talking about drinking at 6 oclock in Glasgow airport
We were in Zurich with all business types at 6am
They ordered expresso we ordered “NO the Big glasses please”
As a wee wifey dressed as if she was going to the Darby and Joan club ordered
Double doubles at the bar.
The Barman thought the circus was in town.
Richard Dunne?!
No disrespect to the guy, but no thanks.
HH!!
I havent posted in ages (lurk daily) but all these recollections of Seville has stirred up my own memories.
The day before the final we, myself and 3 others, were due to catch an early flight from Belfast. Things didnt get off to a good start as I was sitting in the drivers seat of my car at 5am saying the Rosary that my car would start on this the 3rd attempt!
Success.
After picking up the rest of the crew a few beers were consumed pre-flight and to Luton we went.
Sitting consuming another few beers waiting on our next flight we noticed Monica McWilliams (was then the leader of the Womens Coalition party in the Stormont Assembly). We begged her to give the boul Gerry Adams a call to see if he could use his ‘influence’ to get 4 Belfast Bhoys tickets! She took this as good humoured and even posed with us in front of our 8ftx10ft Tricolour on the promise that we wouldnt pass the photo to the Sunday World :-)
To Alicante next after a delayed flight then in to the hire car. Carry outs purchased at the 1st available stop, old skool tunes blaring we set off on the 500km journey to Seville.
We stopped off just after midnight at a roadside taverna in the hope of a room and were exstatic to find two rooms left and only 25 euro pp. Result.
The journey in to Seville the next morning was great. We passed bus after bus of Celtic fans with the customary horn blasting and scarf waving antics raising our spirits even higher than they already were.
We set up in the square, right next to the Tony Mowbray CSC flag visible in most of the photos of the square and t he drinking, singing and dancing started. I have to say that those few hours in the square were the best craic I think I’ve ever had.
With no tickets we set off to find a wee bar that was packed to the rafters with Hoops and the banter, craic, beer flowed right up to the final whistle.
Although deflated I can still remember feeling so proud as the locals appaulded us as we passed on our way back to our car.
There was so many wee things about that trip that stick in my memory that make me smile –
The bagpipe player marching into the square like the Piped Piper and hungreds of us dancing to his tunes in a big circle and taking turns to take the centre to perform our party pieces
My cousin falling asleep toppless on a newspaper to wake up with the print of the sports page readable off his back
The chants towards the Daily Record bus!
The slegging we gave two women in the airport cause one looked like Sideshow Bob – even her mate was crying with laughter
I could go on and on but I’ll end by saying that undoubtably that 3 day round trip was by far the best craic I’ve had, I could only imagine what it wouldve been like if we’d won!
I know our crew had suggested that we’d stay for a few unscheduled days and max out the credit cards – the result probably saved a few marriages.
Hail Hail
Bangurasouprecipe- only when we’re winnin’ by the approved 5-0.
We could use him to bounce down the clock.
Apart from the game my favourite memory of Seville was my brother wearing a Porto top in Carmona on the night of the defeat. Got some dirty looks from 3 hooped tims (2 Glaswegians and a Dundonian) in a street cafe where we ended up. He had learned some Portugese and went over pretending to commiserate in broken English.
“Ah Henrik Larsson #1”
“Ah Henrik Larsson #1”
“Celtic good team no?”
Then we both broke out in
” Big Bobos gonna get ye”
“Big Bobo’s gonna get ye”
5 Tims stoned out their minds in the Parador de Carmona is how it ended.
Can’t believe its been 10 years.
Fantastic few days but I too will stick to some highlights / specific memories.
The heat – couldn’t believe how hot it was in May. By the end of the game , with not a drop of water to drink for hours , my contact lenses were almost completely opaque.
The night before the game stopping in at a bar which was basically a converted garage at a house and being treated like family.
Henrik’s goals and the frustration with Porto’s tactics and Sean Maloney ballooning that free kick/cross over the bar at the death .
Crossing paths with Roy Keane after the game.
Having some beers in a fantastic tapas bar after the game and being taken to a nightclub after the game by locals.
Being kultchured , going into the cathedral and the contrast between that cool, calm and gigantic space and the good natured medieval siege going on outside.
Being amazed at how poorly resourced the stadium was – there was an absolute fortune lost that night by the organisers – you couldn’t buy a drop of water anywhere
overall just being immersed in something that you knew was probably a once in a generation event and being in a place that was , that day, the only place in the world you could possibly want to be.
Happy Seville Day!!
We even have a day off to celebrate :)
On the subject of rapport- prix- qualite, is it true that the Steak Bake Shankly is the best paid manager in Scotland?
Some harsh words on here about Rab Douglas in the final.
He was one of the reasons that we reached the final. His displays throughout the run were excellent.
SOAL
Saw you Seville photies the other night…are you the tall one or the short one?
I know both of you….the shorter one more so!
Every day’s a day off on here.
Some are holidays of obligation, some are holidays of desperation, some ar eholidays of exultation and some are even holidays of domination!
Having a brilliant time reading the post re everyone’s Seville memories.
The stories just re-iterate what that trip meant to us all and reminds me how much fun it was. I doubt any city anywhere in the world has seen the likes of that day.
I remember heading away from the cathedral area to meet up with some of my brother’s mates. the bar they were in – like most of the bars that day – was about to run out of beers. In fact the only alcohol they had left in the entire bar was a bottle of medori, which a guy next to me bought happily when i said no thanks.
Dont think Ive ever seen a bar owner look as happy as the guy in the bar did that day!
The walk from the city centre up to the stadium that evening will stay with me to the day I die. That priceless ticket was zipped in my wallet, which in turn was zipped up in my shorts pocket which was then buttoned into the bargain!
That great majority of that ticket is sitting in my desk drawer to this day – the guy at the turnstile ripped off only a tiny part at the top corner.
HAIL! HAIL!
Token
Today I am proudly wearing – as I often do – my commemorative Seville polo shirt.
White, with the Celtic crest over the left breastie.
Over the right one – UEFA Cup Final – underneath the UEFA Cup Trophy – and on the bottom, Seville 21-5-2003.
Off oot!
HH!!
What happened to the Seville money?
Saint Stivs @ 13 22 .
” It did take me a long time to get over getting beat ”
Me too -it bothered me for a long time . Bothered me more than any other defeat .
I had no doubt that Celtic would beat Inter .
I wasn’t convinced we’d beat Feyenoord , I’d watched them hump a very good Milan team in Rotterdam . There was a lot of hubris after we beat Leeds . I felt like a voice in the wilderness as I told people —- Feyenoord are a right good team . Being beat came as no surprise / I accepted it and moved on ..
Losing in Seville bugged the hell out of me . Porto were a very good team but their antics sickened me . It also really bugged me that 2 Celtic players I really didn’t rate proved me right.
It is great to read everyones memories of Seville however,as we all know thats 10 years ago.When you see the money some clubs spend on players and the wages they pay we unfortunately are not in the same ball game the best we can hope for is to take a big scalp now and again ie Barcelona.There is no level playing field in football and the big clubs will win the European honours but we are still Glasgow Celtic and our club is special and our support is the best and no amount of money can change or buy that. H.H
Seville67
11:29 on
21 May, 2013
Fantastic!!!!
Reading the posts and seeing the pictures is very poignant indeed, especially knowing where I was sitting, who I was with and the fact that was the last time we done what we’d done on hundreds of occasions…
CQN, at times, is an amazing, warm place ;-))
hh
Don’t post regularly however I believe that on very rare occasions and in relation to very select organisations such as our own, winning is not the most important thing. I was in Seville with my daughter, sister and nephew, was incredibly disappointed not to win however the manner in which we handled the occasion was I think an extension of the very ethos of our club, we were inclusive, gracious, truly dignified (not some brown brogued version of dignity) and above all sporting especially when we arrived at the airport 4 hours after the game and were warmly acknowledged by the Porto fans. I truly believe that the greater powers plan was that after that defeat we would achieve our reward for the fans not the team but also we could be held up as a direct comparison to a dead teams shame in Manchester . The lord does move in mysterious ways for those that believe that sort of thing!
The Token Tim
The guy at the turnstile never ripped my ticket at all. Still have the whole thing in tact in a drawer with the official programme, unofficial programme and my flight stubs and other wee keep sakes.
I think the tickets for the final were the cheapest tickets I bought that season. I think they were under £20 with the exchange rate at the time.
LB
From the BBC
‘The official figures from the respective leagues show crowds have fluctuated across Europe, with Barcelona’s average gate down by more than 9,000, an 11% drop.’
Bloody hell the Scottish MSM were right, even the Barcelona fans don’t want to watch a league with no rangers in it.
Seville memories, I left CP the Wed night before after beating Dundee 5-1, I was worried about that late goal they scored and hoped it wouldn’t hurt us in the chase for the league, I remember that disappointment but quickly forgot as we partied on the way back to Blackpool that night, the next morning we left for Manchester airport to head out to Faro, I could go on for hours but Coorslad has already mentioned the guitar I bought and the impromptu tunes in a wee English bar in Albafura, the best bit was being with 80,000 friends and family in Seville ✊
V
DBBIA
Ha – having him back would be like being in the Eurovision, in the the same year as ABBA.
Seville – I woldn’t believe my luck when I got the ticket, took a week and flew from Newcastle to Málaga, back to Manchester. I spent the week in Granada, a favourite place of mine, with one day and one night in Seville. As many have said, I just had to be there…
Reading some of your stories I realise how lucky I was to get such convenient flights
One of my top three games ever.
10 men won the league, checkout this picture I posted this morning.
vmhan
06:57 on 21 May, 2013
Those were the days BT,
http://t.co/uLtQkUQuiY
10 men won the league CSC
Also Seville, I remember walking home from league game towards the end of the season, meeting a group of 3 or 4 burly huns who called me scabby neck. I remember being a bit stunned at first and slow to react, but then just smiled and said “But I’m going to Seville”…
Seville
Glasgow airport at dark o’clock (must have been about 4am I think). Met and had photo taken with John Higgins.
Shuttle bus across to the plane seemed to be sitting forever. Mild panic at the thought the plane might be goosed. Jubilation and relief as the flight took off.
Had 3 tickets for the game, and didn’t meet a single passenger on that flight who’d managed to secure one. Sat next to an ould fella who told me this was the first Celtic game he wasn’t gonna see for donkeys years.
Felt somewhat of a fraud that his dedication didn’t merit a ticket yet me as a part timer had got 3. One of my sons couldn’t make it and we had given his brief to a mate. I wish I’d still had it on the flight to give to the old fella.
Cadiz the night before the game. Hotel emblazoned with Celtic flags and scarfs.
Little bar outside the hotel opened for business and the owner thought all his Christmas’s had come at once. Must had made a fortune. Played all the reb tapes for us all night and into the early hours.
Coach to Seville on match morning. Blistering heat and my son dying of a hangover.
The atmosphere that day in Seville – well documented now.
Realised I had only 1 fag left as we entered the ground. Hung on to it as long as I could. Lit it up….Henk scored. Fag went flying.
The rest you all know. Score disappointing but the experience was awesome. Amazing day, amazing people, amazing team.
(One thing I will never know is how I found the coach post match)
The pilot on our plane when we landed in Seville was a hoot!
He started telling us about his friend who owned a wine shop near London City Airport, how to tell a good wine etc etc then he meandered onto how his friend flies to Seville and picks up wine but that he also picks up the local ladies and that he picked up something from one of them!!
He was telling all us gentlemen to be careful of this situation especially as we all probably had wives or girlfriends back home!! Telling us to make sure as well as visiting the bars and restaurants to also visit the chemist!!
All this in about a 10 minute speech with the poshest of English accents and a massive dose of humour amongst it!!
He had everyone in stitches!
test
test
There were plenty of Hoops that afternoon on the guided tour of Alcazar Palace – stunning, well worth a visit to the city alone.
Dianbobo and Rab carried the can for Seville ;I was in Bairds [ before Babylon shut it down] and they were showing highlights of the UEFA Cup Final run.
Dianbobo was immense; heading the ball clear further than many of his successors could kick it.
jimbob71
Great story. Our flight had a hat for the pilot.
Someone also sold a football card and the pilot won it. he has had worse days!
LB
I’m jelous of that game vmhan….
Do you still have the grass skirt btw? ;)
Ah seville…
I was a poor 19 year old in my first year at university and unfortunitely didnt have the money to travel the whole way to spain
On the day of the final myself and my celtic lovin mate who was livin in the dingy student flat with me decided to have our own wee seville party. We went to the shop and bought every newspaper / magazine that had any mention of celtic, took them back to the flat and proceeded to cut out and stick up as many celtic pictures, jerseys, flags etc that wee could find to add to the atmosphere for the night ahead.
We watched the first half in the flat but decided to head up the falls road to find a bar to catch the second. Bookin a taxi we asked the taxi man to take us to the best celtic bar in west belfast. To this day i cant remember its name. Anyway the bar was rammed packed with tims with sombreros and the sangria was free.
At the final whistle i broke down in tears as my mate consoled me we continued the party long into the early hours…
I was up at 8 the next mornin for my final english exam very tired and still extremely emotional
B-)
My good lady and me went ,no tickets , booked to go to Seville with Jim Doyle, he called us on the Friday before we were leaving the following Monday morning, to say we were flying to Faro with cbus transfer to Seville, our plane had loads of guys from Patick and Drumchapel many of whom were in the same hotel just across the street from Seville Fc’s stadium.
The hotel staff could not believe how many were there and the city was not prepared expecting only about 8k.
Night before the game was spent in the Prado de san Sebastian in the company of charlie and the Bhoys,brilliant night, my brother arrived from another part of town dont know how he knew where we were we found one of those kiosks that sell food and drink were there to dark o’clock ,met folk from Manhatten CSC who had tickets and were apologetic we didin’t, next day out and about, the cathedral etc watched the game on the big screen over the river, walking back into town over the bridge traffic at a stop Sevillians looking on from their cars dont know what they thought, found an abbierto bar which was cerrado until he saw the hoops, another late night.
Home the next day via Faro our bus rep was a Porto fan and he agreed they were diving but that is what happens in football there.
LiviBhoy,
You could go on and on all day revisiting stories of Seville. It was an amazing experience.