Tap Shop Tartan Army - Stevies Diary Spain

The rain in Spain falls mainly at the game
The Story Of Spain

A game in a hot country in the Summer, surely they must be dreaming? After a barrage of games where the TSTA had to apply factor dufflecoat, at last Ambre Solaire could be applied around their nether regions rather than being drunk as an alcohilic alternative at some obscure foreign airport.

The SFA finally came up trumps for them - a friendly versus Spain and better still, to be played near popular tourist areas. Valencia here they come! Of course the trouble was that they didn’t get too much notice and of course the TSTA members also had their Summer holidays with their families to think about, (which they often use as a lever to get to future games!) This led to them having a lot less travellers than perhaps you might expect.

As always it’s never simple getting there is it? Most flights were already booked but where there is a will there is a way (or a dead person I suppose).

Basically, there was a three-pronged attack. Credit Card’s mum lives in Torrevieja so along with Mary Doll that would be their chosen route, a Globespan flight from Glasgow to Alicante. From there they would take along two pensioners to the game we’ll call them by their ages 69 and 73. They are now known as Number 69 and Number 73.

The Captain and Gnasher chose to fly to Stansted to be met by The Fugitive, Caz and new recruit Mi Julie from the Royston East-Side Massif. They then flew to Alicante and stayed at the world-reknowned resort of English Breakfasts/karaoke/lager louts/dettol - yes Benidorm. No luck for them, they were booked in the same hotel as EASTA’s The Claw who was doing his level best to annoy everyone staying there.

Finally, the Bawbags; they had to be there but they left the best family member Annie Bear behind to get on with her job. Fried Egg and Ski-in’ Don’t travelled from their new base in Majorca straight to Valencia and Fried Egg brought along ex-Dunfermline scout Boaby (a football one - but he does have a woggle…and is taking tablets for it!) As Boaby has a pub in Magalluf called The Bronze Bar his name is now Adonis but he’s no Adonis trust me, mind you he is Brad Pitt in comparison to Fried Egg but then that’s not hard, something Annie Bear’s been known to say too! Anyway Adonis says if you are ever in Magalluf you can get free beer all night from him if you mention this story…..oops sorry that only applies to Seven foot Hibs fans who’ve seen them win the Scottish Cup!

The Stansted Five finally made it over to Alicante and were first to land in mainland Spain. Mind you they were last to get away from the airport, as someone had to drive the hire car and that meant someone staying sober, well in truth starting to get sober.

Credit Card and Mary Doll arrived safely in Torrevieja. Wullie Anderson and Gill from the Kirkcaldy Tartan Army had hired out the house opposite to Credit Card’s Mum and on arrival immediately fired over a cold pear cider. Free drink from a Fifer and not a press photographer in sight! Wullie was over the moon with his house, which had a rooftop solarium. It was there that Wullie and Credit Card patent pended their discovery. Fleming discovered penicillin by accident (something a lot of footsoldiers were pleased about after Amsterdam!) and so they discovered “Oh ya Beauty”. In a moment of madness, they wondered what Koppabergs Pear Cider and Carte D’Or Double Chocolate Chip ice cream would taste like. A text was sent to the Battlebus Commander (who is a tad partial to a pear cider or twenty) to rub it in. Actually I’m told rubbing it in wasn’t as good as drinking it.

At this point it’s worth pointing out that TSTA veteran Vice Captain was absent from this tour due to work commitments. So a picture text of the outside temparature on Wullie’s roof of 46.6 degrees was duly dispatched home to Scotland. The reply then zapped through the atmosphere to arrive at Credit card’s phone. It read simply “Getittrightupye!”

Over in Majorca, Fried Egg and Ski-in’ Don’t, two devout Hibbies were less than impressed to see that their cheap Air Berlin flight to Valencia meant that they had so sit in a maroon and white liveried plane.

In Torrevieja the night passed away reasonably sedately but over in Benidorm things were more of a riot. Gnasher was monged, not for the first time on tour and had the munchies before going to bed but the trouble was the hotel bar was closed and there were no munchies to be had. A problem like that to Gnasher is easily overcome. With incredible stealth, he got down on his knees, (I think it is page 10 in the Kama Sutra), anyway he crawled behind the bar, pausing only to look over his shoulder to see if anyone could see him and also for the odd concealed bottom burp.

Once behind the bar he rose to his feet and stood what he thought to be “perfectly still”. In this position, it took a few seconds of short forwards/backward/sideyways movements until he felt he could actually balance. There in the corner was the leaning tower of pizzas, crying out “Eat me Gnasher, eat me!” (Something he said his burd has never said), so he loaded 10 of the blighters under his left arm and another 10 under his right arm plus a bowl of spaghetti bolognaise before heading up the back stairs pausing every three steps for a munch of a Margharita and a giggle to himself about how jealous Paint Shop Boy would be back home.

Back in the room the lights were off and everyone was sleeping. Gnasher simply ate as much pizza as he could before falling fast asleep with half a ham and pineapple pizza lodged in his nostrils. I don’t know if anyone has ever heard of the term Mozzarella Death but he did awake through the night having caught this rare disease and he coughed and spluttered pieces of onion and tomato high into the air like a jet hose.

The Spaghetti Bolognaise was placed between the snoring mouths of The Captain and The Fugitive. They both awoke in the morning with the same piece of spaghetti in their mouths staring at each other rather like the scene from Lady and The Tramp.

As the sun appeared in the morning sky, Gnasher wiped a cheese laden olive from his eye. He exclaimed to The Fugitive “What greedy bastard bought all the pizzas last night, you might have woken me up?” The Fugitive gave Gnasher that knowing look, you know the one a fellow cannibal gives on finding out his arm and legs are missing on a self-catering holiday. Sheepishly Gnasher acknowledged that look then woke everyone up and offered them all some of his cold pizzas.

The Captain rallied his troops and they boarded their car for Valencia. The fumes from their respective breaths were strong, so strong in fact you know those green fir tree air fresheners you get in a car? Well this one’s pine needles fell off! The Captain put the car in gear and off they went………backwards. He moved it out of reverse apologised to the wall, who was otherwise unhurt and finally they were on their way.

Over in Valencia the Majorcan 3 had had a wild night, the night before. They stayed up till 9 o’clock, thus Fried Egg beat his usual first day of tour duty by a full 2 hours. Adonis woke up and cut a hole in the cigarette smoke to see if Fried Egg and Ski-in’ Don’t were still alive. The pair of them smoke like Beagles and Adonis wondered if you could actually die of passive smoking in one night.

In Torrevieja the six of them had a beer breakfast at The Marina Bar, a pub which the BBC’s Tam Cowan used as his local when he was filming there, which probably explains why there were no crisps left. Then they were off to Alicante train station and travelling by first class train. They were puzzled to be given headsets and then they saw the in-cabin TV showing a 1942 black and white Cary Grant film while they listened to the soundtrack in Spanish. No wonder they caught up on their beauty sleep, oh and how Wullie Anderson needed it!

The Benidorm 5 were zooming up the motorway and at times they were even heading in the right direction. The Captain’s driving technique wasn’t quite a la David Coulthard. It was a strange driving posture of clenched fists holding on, with head pushed as far forward as possible. (Gnasher reckoned that too was in the Kama Sutra somewhere around page 41). The Captain greeted the Spanish traffic every now and then with a friendly single digit hand signal followed by a few expletives for good measure. In the back, Caz and Mi Julie blindfolded themselves as they couldn’t watch as The Captain negotiated his third roundabout on the trot in fifth gear in the wrong lane.

The previous night The Captain was monged and he said someone had nicked his phone and lighter. There was a dwarf who looked a bit shifty as far as The Captain was concerned, so he grabbed him by both shirt collars and as he threw him to the ground he skelped him with a rapid one two for allegedly pinching his phone and fags. At this point The Fugitive appeared behind him and said to The Captain “ Here are your fags and phone you daft twat, you left them in the pub next door. The Captain had just finished giving the dwarf the heave ho, or high ho, and it would need a lot of Snow White’s tender love and care to put him right. “Sorry big man” from The Captain, whilst sincere, just didn’t quite seem the right words as The Captain gave him a dooky-up back to his seat!

Anyway the hotel in Valencia was called The Ibis Congressio Palacio and it was in a quiet place in the north of the city. The Majorcan 3 found it easily enough the night before by using that well know Tartan Army orienteering phrase, “Haw taxi driver take us there”. The Benidorm 5 however had been around more roundabouts than a first time visitor to Livingston, before eventually finding it. They parked up and headed for the bar. Fried Egg, Ski-in’ Don’t and Adonis had just that minute arranged to get it open for the morning having returned their two dozen empties from their room.

Meanwhile back to the Torrevieja 6. Wullie Anderson and Gill were staying at a different hotel so they said their goodbyes at Valencia Norte station and the remaining Torrevieja 4 made for the underground. It was only 4 stations to the hotel and then at last everyone was together. On arrival at the bar Credit Card threw Gnasher’s Glengarry at him (Dennis the Menace, who is Gnasher’s Dad had dropped it off at Credit Card’s house following his son’s tearful story to his Dad from the airport check-in queue, telling him he left it in his bedroom and it was his lucky hat. Lucky hat my arse! Gnasher has still to see an away goal on tour!

Once everyone had checked in it was off to the centre of town. It’s always funny watching foreigners doing their best to understand a metro system and how you pay for it. The Captain was jamming 20p pieces into the machine whilst playfully kicking it in the microchips and when Mary Doll went through the ticket barrier she stopped to pick up her ticket as the gates closed thus locking her out.

Just opposite Valencia’s towering Bullring, the TSTA found a traditional “first pub on the right”. Sitting there outside already was Battlebus Commander gulping away at a pint of Cruzcampo whilst the pupils in each of his eyes rotated in a different direction. This was to be the base for the day. The waiters were well impressed with the kilts etc. and asked to borrow hats for photos as did a few of the locals. They were made very welcome there and in addition to consuming a few barrels of beer they scoffed a few steaks and chickens before leaving.

A bit of culture was required before the game so the TSTA set off for a wee look around Valencia, pausing only momentarily to check the next stop was every fourth, and not fifth, pub. Adonis treated the TSTA girls to a single red rose each but they did look a little undernourished, the roses not the girls that is.

Finally it was time to go to the game and they headed for the metro. On the train they got the Spaniards to sing along to “Y Viva Espana” and one of the Spanish fans promised to take them to a quiet pub he knew near the ground. Everyone was to be quiet and follow him. The pub was in darkness like the time Haymarket tried to change a fuse in TSTA HQ. They entered in a side door but sure enough it was a big boozer and dirt-cheap. One of the bar staff moved out to collect glasses and then The Fugitive made his move, he grabbed her by the waist and proceeded to dance to the record on the jukebox with her much to her delight and surprise. As Gnasher said we’ve got a disco going now as number 69 and number 73 made their way to see if the cleaners fancied a dance too. Mi Julie asked a Spaniard to sing a song and he said “Senorita I cannot sing”, Julie said to him repeat after me the Scottish word for yes “Aye, Aye Aye”. There you daft Spic you’ve sung Spanish Eyes!

After a mega session and with a full 30 minutes to kick-off they left the pub for The Levante Stadium only 5 minutes away. The police and stewards at the stadium were useless. Despite a crowd of something like 12,000 they were stuck along with 2,000 other Tartan Army members outside at kick-off time! Goodness how they would have coped with a big crowd.

Eventually when they got in the ground everyone was split up thanks to the police and their heavy-handed tactics shoving everyone all over the place. Credit Card had bought a wee sombrero for Hamish his sporran and had another in Hamish’s zipper for the Hebs Bar’s mascot Fiona the Burd. Just before taking his seat Credit Card caught Big Davie J and handed it over, Fiona’s napper looked resplendent with her newly bought headgear. There’s a cracker of a picture of Fiona with her sombrero on to be found on our website.

Things settled down and then the moment arrived that Gnasher thought he would never see, a curling free kick from James McFadden out on the right hand touchline swung in past Puyol and the keeper and lodged in the back of the net. One nil to Scotland and Gnasher was in heaven. Back at TSTA HQ the first thing The Chieftain said on watching the goal live on TV was “Well at last Gnasher has broken his duck!” Then they all fell about laughing watching the replay, which showed it to be an own-goal, so Gnasher still hadn’t seen Scotland score a goal. Incidentally the second thing The Chieftain said was “Haw Vicey get the beers in!”

Back at the game, Gnasher was still celebrating the goal for the rest of the half. The second half opened brightly enough but the Spaniards were diving all over the place and eventually got a penalty. Raul dispatched it and kissed his ring in celebration (which is surely something you can get lifted for?!)

Still Scotland were playing well and in all honesty could have been 5-1 up. Minutes later lady luck dealt Scotland a bad hand, similar to the one The Boy Wonder was dealt in the ugly coupon department. The lights went out and then the sky turned red, like a million traffic lights at stop, all joined together. And then the rain came in torrents bouncing three feet back off the ground as it landed. Everyone ran for cover.

The stairs inside the stadium were like rivers as the water cascaded at a fair pace. The game was called off, so Gnasher’s goal he thought he saw was instantly wiped from the record books, as was the cheesey grin he had since the goal had went in. He was devasted, whilst everyone else was simply soaked. Once again the police and stewards played their part in the disorganised chaos as everyone left the ground. The TSTA again got split up.

Caz, Mi Julie, The Fugitive (who had earlier done a belly flop into the river that used to be a road outside the stadium), Adonis, Fried Egg, Ski-in’ Don’t and Number 73 somehow made it back to the bar outside the stadium which was still in darkness, The others ran for what cover was around and all got lost. Mary Doll was drookit and Credit Card spotted a police horsebox with Shergar and it’s buddy standing nice and cosy so they dived in to get out of the rain. No 69 managed to get half way back on the metro and then a taxi from there. The Captain did a 10K walk and got back in the end.

In the pub in darkness, a lady, let’s just say she was top heavy and remember with wet clothes, was greeted by The Fugitive’s latest chat up line, “Some sookers hen” which not surprisingly earned him a slap in the coupon!

Mary Doll and Credit Card left the company of the two horses and the other 20 Tartan Army members who had also by now sought refuge there. The rain had eased off a bit and they found another pub where a party, of sorts was in full swing. It was there that Mary Doll caught up with Gill again and they both moaned about how much the rain had buggered up their hair, whereas Wullie Anderson and Credit Card moaned that it took them so long to find a boozer.

It was there that they spoke to two lads from Airdrie. They were soaked anyway so they didn’t care and waited outside after the game in all the rain, lightening and thunder for the team buses to appear. The Scotland one went by slowly and the two of them waved and got waves back, which they said was great. Then the Spanish one appeared and it stopped in the traffic for a couple of minutes so the two of them went up to one of the windows of the bus, saw Raul and Morientes and gave them the v-signs. To their utter amazement the two superstar players stood out of their seats and returned the v signs straight back! They then turned their attention to the player sitting behind and made diving gestures, as after all, the Spanish players had been diving for fouls all night. The player laughed, got up out of his seat went into his bag and pulled out and waved his goalkeepers gloves at them!

Credit Card and Mary Doll eventually left the pub but didn’t have a clue where they were and every taxi they tried to flag down was full. After half an hour of aimless walking Credit Card flagged down a passing car. The woman passenger said she had been at University in Scotland at Dundee and that the Scottish people had been nice to her so they could jump in and her boyfriend would take them back to their hotel. See there are some nice people in this world.

In the morning, the Benidorm 5 headed back to Benidorm to complete their holiday but not before Number 69 invited them to stay their last day of their holiday in Torrevieja, rather than Benidorm. He said he would see if he could get them somewhere to stay and to give him a phone.

Number 69 and number 73 headed for the open deck bus tour in what was now a dry and sunny Valencia. The Majorcan 3 had a few beers with Credit Card and Mary Doll before heading back to Magalluf.

In Benidorm, the next few days passed peacefully enough. They had a day trip in the hills to see The Fugitive’s pal, who lives in the middle of nowhere. Gnasher was monged on one of the nights and decided to sleep on the balcony. Once he made the decision the others locked him out, for his own good, as they feared for him going out looking for pizzas again.

The Captain informed Caz that she had a pair that he could play with for hours, which Caz briefly took as a massive compliment before playfully skelping his nose. Mi Julie and Caz went out for a night on the tiles, well for Caz it ended up on the beach and The Fugitive is still trying to count the number of lines she had imprinted on her back from the sun-lounger. The Captain on hearing shouts of “Yes, yes, yes” from the beach thought that she was answering his earlier question. Remember these stories only contain a limited amount of fact, so no suing me Caz.

They watched the Austria v England game where The Fugitive spoke to an Arnold Schwarzenneger look-alike and said to him “Did you get bullied at the school” and got away with it. You can imagine the cheers when Austria equallised from the TSTA lot among the many England fans.

Finally, the Bendiorm 5 took up number 69’s offer and called to say they had just checked out of their hotel and were on their way to Torrevieja. Credit Card hit Carrefour to load up with some San Miguels for their arrival and in an hour’s time a call came through that Caz had lost her purse and that they were at the police station and it would be some time before they got there but got there they eventually did.

At night time, it was off to the Med Bar which has a weekly pub quiz and you can guess who won the €40 prize, yes the TSTA lads. The prize was then converted to beer at The Irish Bar next door, as they took over the karaoke in a night fraught with alcohol.

The next day it was time to chill out. Credit Card’s Mum’s house has a communal swimming pool. Nobody was using it so Mary Doll, Caz and Mi Julie crashed out at the side to sunbathe, whilst the Tap Shop Tartan Army Synchronised Swimming Team of The Captain, The Fugitive, Gnasher and Credit Card went through their paces. The Captain perfected a routine, which involved a swift half, a long drawn out pint, and we’re all drunk fall down move, which will surely grace the next Olympics.
Then after an al fresco fish supper, it was time for everyone to go home.

Another KO tour was had by one and all.