The first home game of the season. We may have had a month of World Cup drama but for died-in-the-wool Hearts fans, the return to Tynecastle to see their favourites after three long months away is the highlight of the summer. And for this particular Jambo, this Saturday afternoon will be particularly significant. For my five-year-old grandson Jack will be with me at Tynecastle - to witness his first ever Hearts game.
Now, I will be the first to admit that my daughter Laura has looked at me and what more than four decades of following Hearts has turned me into and doubtless wondered if there wasn’t a child protection issue here. Since I attended my first Hearts game in 1968, I’ve experienced the joy and heartache - okay, admittedly it’s been more the latter - of being a Jambo. Now I’m going to subject young Jack to similar experiences. Small wonder Laura isn’t the only one concerned…
However, I know it won’t be long before Jack is smitten by the Jambo bug and will immediately be eagerly anticipating his next visit to Tynecastle (he will, honestly!) I only hope his first Hearts game gives him the same experience I enjoyed nearly forty-two years ago. The memories are a bit hazy but I do recall Hearts defeating Falkirk 3-1 at a crumbling Brockville Park - it was beginning to crumble even as far back as 1968 - and me being captivated by the huge Hearts support that day. My father had taken me to the game from our home in Cumbernauld with the intention of bringing me up to be a Falkirk Bairn. I have thought about what might have happened if Falkirk had won that day - would I now be taking grandson Jack to the Falkirk Stadium to watch First Division football? Worse still - my father could have chosen the Falkirk-Hibs fixture that season. Horror upon horrors, I could have been a Hibby although it’s difficult to even imagine being captivated by them…
Of course, the world is a far different place today than it was in 1968. Jack tried to get in the psyche of his first visit to Tynecastle by watching some of this summer’s World Cup from South Africa. Now I know what you may be thinking, dear reader. Watching the likes of Lionel Messi, Ronaldo, Wayne Rooney and Kaka may lead to young Jack being slightly disappointed when he sees Marius Zaliukas and co taking on the finest Perth has to offer - although, having said that, none of the aforementioned perceived superstars of world football got beyond the quarter final stage of the World Cup. Moreover - and I’ll keep my fingers crossed on this one - there’ll be none of the vuvuzelas that dominated the atmosphere throughout the World Cup blaring at Tynecastle on Saturday. I lost count of the number of times that wee trumpet in South Africa irritated the hell out of me during the summer - but enough about Clive Tyldesley…
Much as watching football’s premier competition was, for the most part enjoyable - particularly the latter stages - part of me was yearning for the boys in maroon and returning to Tynecastle to see Scottish football. It may not be on the same technical level as Spain, Germany, Holland et al but there’s a passion about following your own team that just doesn’t happen with the World Cup. Unless Scotland are playing, of course, but we haven’t graced the football world’s top stage since 1998 and the fear is we’re getting used to our country just not being there.
On a personal note, this season I will no longer be sampling a pre-match pint in the fine hostelries of Gorgie before a Hearts game. I will be starting my grandson off on something I hope will become a family tradition - following Edinburgh’s finest. As my father encouraged me to support Falkirk, (God rest his soul) and my two daughters weren’t particularly keen on football, taking my grandson to his first Hearts game on Saturday could be the start of something big.
I only hope that forty years from now when I’m nearing ninety years of age my grandson doesn’t blame his increased state of anxiety, high blood pressure and depressive episodes on being a Hearts fan. ‘Cos I’ll be the one carrying the can for his mid-life crisis…
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