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Happiest time as a bear, and wasnt even there.....


rab wilson
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Something that bears who have lived or lived abroad may be able to identify with.........

Living in germany, hadnt been home since the durrant winner in the OF game at Ibrox,we were all of a sudden within a week of winning the title for the first time really that i could remember, even though i attended my first game in 77 as a 5 year old, my old man was keeping in touch with my uncle in kirkie all season long, and for that bear, who had lived through their 9 in a row, and had suffered years of weekends at Pittodrie with shite performances and defeats,i could see the old man getting restless and could sense the jungle drums of scotland starting to beat in his chest.

He didnt talk to my maw for a fortnight, but she knew how his heart was yearning for the gers, and mine, and she never pushed it once.me on the other hand pushed him to the fuckin limit.I already knew i couldnt possibly go as i was due to play my cup final on the sunday, and i would never have asked my dad to act responsibly and keep me in his thoughts if we actually beat the sheep and won it.

But every night when the old dear went to bed, and he went for his shower, i would whack in the vhs of us beating the mhanks in the league cup final that season, and pause it when i heard the water stop running, then full blast as he came out the bathroom:

"Cooper is there, Butcher is there, Durrant is there ...and scores! Ian Durrant has scored for Rangers!"

Cue the Bears behind the goal going mental,ma da never said once to turn it off.

On the wednesday night that week , when my mum went to bed, he pulled me next to him on the couch and said.

"me karl and harry arent coming home from work tomorrow, so prepare for yer maw and aunties to go fuckin mental awrite son, but itll be awrite.but im gonnae miss yer cup final, but ill phone ye, hope that fuckin motor makes it to calais!"

"ah knew ye were going dad, ive been torturing ye all week,ill listen to the score on the radio, will the world service cover it da?"

"mars will be covering this fuckin Rangers support son!"

My mum wasnt angry at all,my sister was jealous as fuck cos he told me and no her, and the next couple of days were fuckin torture at school, nae word from ma da.

Then on the saturday morning as i hung the UJ outside my bedroom window the phone went.

"whyd you no tell me ya bastard, i fuckin knew ye were going,they better fuckin win or dont come back. Love ye." my maw was sweet, and it made the day all the better.

Every picture from the shoot magazine, every scarf and pennant, every Rangers item of clothing was laid out on mine and my sisters beds, my Red Hand Of Ulster Giant Flag hung of my back , covering my Cooper 11 on the back of my jersey,as long as the trail on princess Di's wedding dress as i strolled round the house.it was fuckin boiling outside so the patio doors were open as i put on the world service on the radio,fuck you could barely here it for all the interference,and had to endure the liverpool game for 35 mins of the 2nd half.

"we are going to pi.... crack, burp,10 crackle , rangers 1-1, crackle, whoooo, falkirk, crackle , some fuckin opera singer on french radio bursting his lungs,on its way to ibrox..............

The 3 of us gathered round next to the speakers, praying for a Rangers winner, not knowing after next couple of minutes that we didnt need it cos falkirk were winning at Parkhead.The last 3 minutes were fuckin torture, as we could hear literally fuck all until,"back to Pittodrie"..................................."Rangers supporters have invaded the pitch, they have waited soooooo long for this, nine years and they have finally done it!!!!"

For those of you who have survived my post, the celebrations in my house at that moment have never ever been rivalled or beaten in any of the years since that day, over a thousand miles away in germany,3 of us greetin on the floor, me my maw and my sister.At last Rangers hadnt let us down.

But most of all, they came through for my dad, fuck my uncles.My dad was, and i hope still is after 15 years of us not speakin or seeing each other, still the biggest, proudest ,,proddiest Rangers supporter that ever walked this earth.Pity a Man Utd jersey with Keane 16 on the back cost him far more than the effort he made to wear it.

So Dad, if you ever stumble across RangersMedia, this ones for you, by the way, your Grandsons are both Bears.Missed ye in Manchester, what a photo that would have been, you , me and ma weans.

Never mind.

No Surrender

Rab

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3-0, winning the league at parkhead.

Was sitting in one room with my dad with watching it as a bunch of tims on the other room were watching the same game. Can't remember my father ever letting me away with screaming "get it fucking up yes!!!" When the second went in :lo

And the third but that was more half laughing, half cheering :lol:

Rab, the offer for a pint when your up for game still stands btw (tu)

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So that's you in the story? I was at that game and that just brought the memories rushing to the front of my mind. The moments are seared in my mind and I'll never experience feelings like that again. The train journey back was a total riot in the brilliant sense.

Aye that was me mate.You cant understand what it was like to live abroad as a young bear mate,getting the scores on the world service service, then trying to imagine who scored and what the goal was like,getting to ibrox once every 2 years when my parents could afford it.Every player who you saw on that day was the greatest rangers player you had ever seen, because that was all you could hang on to til the next time.

hoping the were wearing black and red socks again, cos the blue ones or the red ones never looked the same, hoping you would draw a german team in europe so you would at least get 10 mins you could record on video after midnight, so you could watch it 1000s of times,watchin how the 1st Iain Ferguson celebrated scoring so you could copy it youself when you scored for yer youth team every week.every wee morsel counted up to more than 10 million quid ever could.

Wee Durrant became my god after i had been home for that OF game at Ibrox, and i knew i needed to come back to Britain for good so i had a chance to go to ibrox just to watch him.

I went for trials every where, chelsea , spurs, arsenal, yeovil, but eventually southend united took me on in late 87, but i thanked my lucky stars i crocked my knee couple months later, cos saturdays were now free,got a shite job that paid for my bus fares up the road on a friday night and i was all of a sudden the happiest cunt in the world.

People will criticize me for being too emotional about the Rangers,but they really have been my everything for as long as i remember.When you have lived abroad, and survived, and remembered what you are and why, then i feel as though im allowed to love The Rangers as much as i like, and write about it, and our Billy Boy support.

I left Glasgow as a 10 year old in 82, and everyday i dreamed of seeing somebody walk down the road in that blue jersey for nearly 6 years.

No cunt on this fuckin planet loves Rangers more than me, but millions around the world love them just as much as i do.

We Are The Fuckin People, every fuckin one of us.

Even if most dont like how i write, and they dont, i hope for one second they can remember that it doesnt matter how shite the team might play on the park, that can change from week to week, but that they just remember why they are what they are, fuckin best feeling in the world whistling the sash in the cold store at work at 5 in the morning every day.

No Surrender

Rab

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Something that bears who have lived or lived abroad may be able to identify with.........

Living in germany, hadnt been home since the durrant winner in the OF game at Ibrox,we were all of a sudden within a week of winning the title for the first time really that i could remember, even though i attended my first game in 77 as a 5 year old, my old man was keeping in touch with my uncle in kirkie all season long, and for that bear, who had lived through their 9 in a row, and had suffered years of weekends at Pittodrie with shite performances and defeats,i could see the old man getting restless and could sense the jungle drums of scotland starting to beat in his chest.

He didnt talk to my maw for a fortnight, but she knew how his heart was yearning for the gers, and mine, and she never pushed it once.me on the other hand pushed him to the fuckin limit.I already knew i couldnt possibly go as i was due to play my cup final on the sunday, and i would never have asked my dad to act responsibly and keep me in his thoughts if we actually beat the sheep and won it.

But every night when the old dear went to bed, and he went for his shower, i would whack in the vhs of us beating the mhanks in the league cup final that season, and pause it when i heard the water stop running, then full blast as he came out the bathroom:

"Cooper is there, Butcher is there, Durrant is there ...and scores! Ian Durrant has scored for Rangers!"

Cue the Bears behind the goal going mental,ma da never said once to turn it off.

On the wednesday night that week , when my mum went to bed, he pulled me next to him on the couch and said.

"me karl and harry arent coming home from work tomorrow, so prepare for yer maw and aunties to go fuckin mental awrite son, but itll be awrite.but im gonnae miss yer cup final, but ill phone ye, hope that fuckin motor makes it to calais!"

"ah knew ye were going dad, ive been torturing ye all week,ill listen to the score on the radio, will the world service cover it da?"

"mars will be covering this fuckin Rangers support son!"

My mum wasnt angry at all,my sister was jealous as fuck cos he told me and no her, and the next couple of days were fuckin torture at school, nae word from ma da.

Then on the saturday morning as i hung the UJ outside my bedroom window the phone went.

"whyd you no tell me ya bastard, i fuckin knew ye were going,they better fuckin win or dont come back. Love ye." my maw was sweet, and it made the day all the better.

Every picture from the shoot magazine, every scarf and pennant, every Rangers item of clothing was laid out on mine and my sisters beds, my Red Hand Of Ulster Giant Flag hung of my back , covering my Cooper 11 on the back of my jersey,as long as the trail on princess Di's wedding dress as i strolled round the house.it was fuckin boiling outside so the patio doors were open as i put on the world service on the radio,fuck you could barely here it for all the interference,and had to endure the liverpool game for 35 mins of the 2nd half.

"we are going to pi.... crack, burp,10 crackle , rangers 1-1, crackle, whoooo, falkirk, crackle , some fuckin opera singer on french radio bursting his lungs,on its way to ibrox..............

The 3 of us gathered round next to the speakers, praying for a Rangers winner, not knowing after next couple of minutes that we didnt need it cos falkirk were winning at Parkhead.The last 3 minutes were fuckin torture, as we could hear literally fuck all until,"back to Pittodrie"..................................."Rangers supporters have invaded the pitch, they have waited soooooo long for this, nine years and they have finally done it!!!!"

For those of you who have survived my post, the celebrations in my house at that moment have never ever been rivalled or beaten in any of the years since that day, over a thousand miles away in germany,3 of us greetin on the floor, me my maw and my sister.At last Rangers hadnt let us down.

But most of all, they came through for my dad, fuck my uncles.My dad was, and i hope still is after 15 years of us not speakin or seeing each other, still the biggest, proudest ,,proddiest Rangers supporter that ever walked this earth.Pity a Man Utd jersey with Keane 16 on the back cost him far more than the effort he made to wear it.

So Dad, if you ever stumble across RangersMedia, this ones for you, by the way, your Grandsons are both Bears.Missed ye in Manchester, what a photo that would have been, you , me and ma weans.

Never mind.

No Surrender

Rab

Brilliant read mate, had goosebumps there. Brought that night back. I was only 10 and my dad took me to that game and I ended up on the pitch that night. Guy from our bus was cutting up the grass and I got a bit, kept it on my window sill, tending it until it died. Even then I didn't want to part with it. Aye the memories. Got back to the pub on the bus and remember a good mate for sum reason having a kilt on and trying to cut his knoib off with a lockback? Strange.

Love to hear old memories.

Ps rab , do get in touch with your auld man. What's happened we don't know, but unless he pumped your missus while you were at work, I would say from my personal point of view as I had fallen out with mine, and would have regretted it if I never squared things up mate.

I hope things change.

Thanks for the memory!

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For me being abroad it was listening to Colin Stein scoring the winner at Easter Road to stop their 9 in a row. Huddled around a radio at the Toronto Rangers Supporters Club with many others bears and the roar that went up could have been heard back in Glasgow. And mate yer right there is NO cunt who loves Rangers more than me, but there are plently that love the team just as much as I do, with all the scheidt going on around the club right now we would ALL do well to remember that, We ARE the Rangers and WATP.

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The first Helicopter Sunday when Well beat the tims and we won at Easter Road take some beating, we watched in a pub called The Cutty Sark in SE London, at the time it was the home of the south east loyal so there was loads of us in and the place genuinely erupted for a good 10 minutes, what a buzz that was.

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