The cessation of sport during the present lockdown is an added angst for many. Sport is an escape from the drudgery of everyday life. When everyday life presently means staying at home not having this means of escape just adds to the already considerable feelings of misery.
Starved of live action, I have been watching BT Sport’s re-runs of The Big Match Revisited, the ITV version of Match of the Day from the 1970s and 80s. What is striking is the difference in stadia, crowds and the general atmosphere in football of yesteryear.
The Big Match Revisited shows mainly English games and there was a penchant among many of the fans of decades gone by to chant the score particularly when their team opened the scoring. The BBC’s Match of the Day had legendary commentator David Coleman among others and his cry of ‘one-nil’ became his trademark. When Liverpool’s Kevin Keegan scored during the 1974 FA Cup final between Liverpool and Newcastle United, Coleman memorably exclaimed ‘Goals pay the rent – and Keegan gets his share’ which was very much of its time.
I suspect Coleman’s ‘one-nil’ may have been behind the reason fans of many teams shouted ‘one-nil, one-nil, one-nil, one-nil’ when their team took the lead. This isn’t something that’s heard these days and perhaps that’s something we should be thankful for.
The essence of football chants, like so many other things, has changed over the years. When fans packed into the old terracings in the days before all-seated stadia, there was a communal gathering, almost religion-like in its purpose. When people of a particular faith gather in their place of worship they can sing or chant and share their beliefs with other like-minded worshippers. I don’t think it’s crass to suggest it’s the same for football fans although the content of much of what is sung has altered in recent years as people become more diverse and embracing of different cultures and race.
The Big Match Revisited was originally broadcast at a time when Hearts fans would be seen standing in the old shed at Tynecastle, sheltering from the teeming rain. This invoked a spirit of togetherness. The game would kick off and Hearts would begin brightly, leading to a dangerous period of optimism among the home support. Then, wham! The opposition would break away and open the scoring. If, as was custom, Hearts opponents were playing towards the School End in the first half you could hear the swish of the net as the ball nestled there beyond the despairing grasp of goalkeeper extraordinaire Jim Cruickshank. There would be a momentarily silence – save for the sprinkling of away fans scattered on the Gorgie Road terracing – before the home support would chant ‘You’re gonna get your ****ing head kicked in’ accompanied by rapid clapping. This, of course, was aimed at those away supporters whose team had dared to score against the mighty Hearts (although for much of the 1970s it wasn’t so much mighty as meek as the maroons diced with oblivion)
This would merely taunt those away fans into ridiculing us even more and the home fans chant would then change to ‘You’re going home in a ****ing ambulance’.
Some tunes from the ‘hit parade’ of the 1970s (ask your mum and dad, young ‘uns) would be in use for several years. Scots band Pilot had a hit with ‘Magic’ in 1974 and the more mischievous among the Hearts support would adopt the tune but change the lyrics of the chorus to ‘It’s magic, you know…there’s gonnae be Gorgie aggro’ – a clear indication that Hearts supporters weren’t to be messed with.
The songs and chants 40 odd years ago weren’t all about putting someone in hospital. A Christmas Eve 1977 visit to Gayfield Park, Arbroath in the First Division saw Hearts hammer their fellow maroon opponents 7-0. The Gorgie Army’s rendition of ‘White Christmas’ was as memorable as it was alcohol-induced…
In the 1970s there was a penchant, particularly among some of the younger supporters, to tie your scarf around your wrist. My wife Marion tells me this was something teenyboppers of 1970s idols such as Donny Osmond and the Bay City Rollers also did but she knows more about this than I do.
My first proper away trip without a responsible adult in tow was in April 1976 when a fellow Hearts supporting pal and I headed to Montrose for Hearts Scottish Cup quarter final tie with the Gable Endies. We were excited 14-year-olds adorned from head to toe in maroon and white with enough badges on our scarves which, if melted down, could have been transformed into a Ford Capri.
A popular badge in the 1970s was the two-fingered salute – a drawing of a fist with a forefinger and middle finger protruding and the statement underneath shouting, ‘Up the Hearts!’ I recall I had one particular badge for that trip to Montrose which was pretty close to the official Hearts badge but with a turquoise colour behind the St Andrew’s Cross. It was, apparently, something of a rarity although I can’t recall how I came to acquire this little beauty. A fellow Hearts fan at Montrose – and there were about 7,000 of us packed into tiny Links Park that spring afternoon – saw the array of badges on my scarf and offered me the princely sum of 35p for this badge. It was a tempting offer – seven shillings in old money – but I politely declined. This added to the already considerable pride I felt, and I imagined admiring glances for the rest of that afternoon from my fellow Hearts supporters (your mind does strange things when you are 14 years old…)
If you think this sounds like the ramblings of an old man who is desperate to see live football again – even the fare produced by Hearts this year – you would be right. COVID-19 might have taken football away from me – but it can’t take away the memories.
Author of The Team for Me - 50 Years of Following Hearts. Runs Mind Generating Success, a successful therapy practice in Edinburgh. Contact me if you want rid of any unwanted habits. Twitter @Mike1874
