It wasn’t just a statement you know. It wasn’t just an early rush of an announcement; it was the beginning of a story, a thought process and perhaps no little mystery and raised typing sppeds of posts containing ‘what the Jimminy Cricket is Estadio on about?’. (Please note there the use of Jiminy Cricket as the preferred CQN acceptable expletive.)
It began, I think last Thursday when as with all rock paths across a raging torrent of alligator infested antipodean creeks, I took a first tentative step and opened an intriguing e-mail from a new and unknown correspondent.
Normally I don’t open anything like that until I have subjected it my own death star anti-viral treatment, but with a subject line that read….. “Saturday September 10th Match 11 am” my intrigue was triggered. After all we were playing at 15.00; of course the e-mail was from another part of the world, but why would anyone want to tell me that. There had to a hidden message, something that had said to someone sitting on another continent, another timezone…. “Get this message out to the world at large. It is important. But only use a trusted confidante and impeccable Tim”. Forgetting for a moment that it was my brain that had just made up those words, I smiled to myself and said to no-one in particular,( well in fact no-one, as I was sitting in an empty room……well empty of people anyway …..there was a bed, empty tea mug, computer and stuff and a Marylyn Munroe quilt cover, but I doubt if she was listening)
“You’ve found just the man you clever person”! I smiled smugly as I recognised myself in my own mind.
I did a quick scan to make sure there were no attachments or other technical nasties around and opened it.
As I thought; they just couldn’t let me rest in peace in Glasgow’s grumbling streets. My God what recollections the contents inspired….great memories of …..ach I’ll come to that later (probably after the watershed when exclamations of Jimminy Cricket well rend cyberspace).
But then ignoring these pictures that had been included inside the email, I read the message. That was when I could see the story as my thought process started with a wow and ended with a smile but a big problem. How was I to get that story out there without just being cursorily dismissed as ‘so blinking (also CQN acceptable) what?”?
After all the Timosphere was already choc full of ‘big stories’ big imminent events, catastrophes, hearings, taxmen, tax dodges, and expectancy. Yet this one to me and for Celtic seemed to be the biggest of all. It hit me then “Mystery; obfuscation, kettles of red herring, and a denoument worthy of Edgar Alan Poe’s younger brother and celebrated castrati, Chanter Poe! After all everyone loves a mystery, a paper chase. Especially when the delights that lie at the end surpass even the bloomin, blinkin Jimminy Cricket jpegs from ‘our correspondent – abroad somewhere”
And so I set to my task.
I would have to provide clues, I may set up some delaying hurdles and dead-ends but I needed people thinking. Signposts might have been misleading but not deliberately so. Footprints would have to left, motives given , names not necessarily dropped but quizzical knowing eyebrows raised with the occasional ‘hmmmmm’. But most of all I had to get those with sensitivity to an angel fish’s brief fin stroke to understand the rational of just why and what that stroke could/would and should turn into a Celtic Tsumani of construction.
Tsunami? Construction? Destruction surely.
No I and a few others had at last come across the justification for Fred Hoyle’s infamous passage in his 1983b book The Intelligent Universe, viz..
“A junkyard contains all the bits and pieces of a Boeing 747, dismembered and in disarray. A whirlwind happens to blow through the yard. What is the chance that after its passage a fully assembled 747, ready to fly, will be found standing there? So small as to be negligible, even if a tornado were to blow through enough junkyards to fill the whole Universe.”
We were about to show how it could be done and how Celtic in the widest sense had the capability of turning history, economics, capitalism and the bringing to an abrupt end the headlong rush of football to the welcoming embrace of soulless franchises.
But this package could prove dangerous. It needed unwrapping carefully by a highly skilled trained explosives expert. I couldn’t get a hold of one unfortunately in fact I couldn’t even get hold of a common or garden two a penny sapper, instead I had to make do, as you will to, with a simple sap – me!
Remember the aim was to demonstrate the importance of what had been sent me.
Three things had to be achieved.
First people had to want to know.
Second. I had to give enough information for them to find the message.
And Third I had to explain my rationale behind its importance.
A careful perusal of many of my posts since last week will confirm that I have undoubtedly achieved the first and second objectives.
Next is to try and explain the third.
I will use my own thought processes to deal with this. Let’s start as I read the simple message from a far away land. A message from a Celtic supporter, a message that showed that the Diaspora were possibly more ubiquitously in train with the core ethos, mythical or not, of Cewltic than many of us still here in Scotland and Ireland; more than that they were doing something about it. The myth would be made real and football would be the better for it.
I started with “What is Celtic and what is it we want of and for our club?”
It simply flowed from there
TO BE CONTINUED