Steakhouse surrealism and the walk of shame

G’day, cobbers,

All good things must come to an end. Here I was sitting in the departure lounge at Sydney Airport, hating every word of Captain Sensible’s 1984 hit Glad It’s All Over.

In terms of Australia, it was definitely a case of ‘ Veni, Vidi, Vici’.

I felt lucky, honoured and privileged to have covered the Sydney Super Cup. It has been the trip and experience of a lifetime reporting on Celtic Down Under.

Sydney was bathed in a sea of green and white and awash with hordes of Celtic fans for days. Never mind the results, the unbridled joy etched on every supporter’s face at getting to view their heroes in the flesh will live with me forever.

You cannot put into words what it really means to be part of the extended Parkhead family. Spanish newspaper El Mundo Deportivo came close before a UEFA Cup game in 2004 against Barcelona when they described the Hoops as having “the unconditional support of the best fans on the continent”.

Or as French football publication L’Equipe opined in 2012: “Plus qu’un club, un peuple” ( More than a club, a people).

I also like what legendary sports broadcaster and Scottish football doyen Archie Macpherson once said: “Celtic enjoys a greater community spirit than any other club in the world.”

But perhaps the best football writer ever, bar none, Hugh McIlvanney summed it up best when he described the Hoops as: “A football club who still like to think of themselves as an extended family.”

This was clearly evident in Australia. Everything good about the club, the manager, and the support was showcased worldwide.

Anyone who read my first diary entry will know there were a few airport dramas on my trip over. Thankfully there were no boarding pass hitches this time round. All three were printed off with no problem. It was all plain sailing – well, plain flying – if you get what I mean.

However, not content with risking an $ 8,000 fine for trying to sneak haggis into the country on landing in Sydney last Thursday, I got collared for trying to take a bottle of Kraken rum out of the country this time as I headed out on the first leg of the three flight journey home.

The duty- free computer said ‘ no’ as I was prevented from taking home the bottle of alcohol, which was intended for my father as a gift. Various signs were flashed in my face by the staff about some new regulations and Singapore’s latest policy on taking litres of alcohol from Australia into the country.

The advice and stern talking to duly went in one ear and out the other. How was I to know about the rules and regulations? I was tired. Sorry, dad. I’ll make it up to you somehow.

I didn’t quite have the proverbial petted bottom lip like a doo’s landing board but you would have thought I had committed some sort of heinous crime. I felt like a bit of a criminal as I was turned away from the ‘ pay here’ desk and had to perform what can only be described as a walk of shame in front of a queue of impatient and angry waiting customers.

Think former Celtic midfielder Roy Aitken in the 1984 Scottish Cup final loss to Aberdeen when he was the first player ever to be sent off in the Hampden showpiece and had to trudge off the park. Multiply that by a big number and you still wouldn’t even come close to how I felt as I walked away with my tail firmly wedged between my legs.

As for the highlight of the trip, ladies and gentlemen, the whole experience has been tremendous but allow me this surreal moment.

I dined out alone on Tuesday evening because it was my last proper night in the city. I knew I was heading to the Everton vs Western Sydney Wanderers match in Parramatta and would not get back until late on Wednesday.

I thought I would treat myself to steak and chips with a peppercorn sauce down by the Sydney Harbour Bridge and Opera House. I had clocked a 24- hour restaurant during the day and thought it looked superb.

I wanted to just drink it all in and survey the ambience. waited to be seated and I then parked myself at a table directly facing the Sydney Harbour Bridge. What an honour and a privilege.

I ordered my food and was totally oblivious to the couple sitting parallel to me. The next thing that happened left me totally gobsmacked.

“Hey, it’s Tony Haggerty, I presume?” the gentleman beside me said. “It is you, right? I knew it was you. I could tell that accent anywhere.

“I watch your podcast all the time. Let me introduce myself... I’m Shuggie from Perth. I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. I have waited for years to see Celtic playing live again. You weren’t expecting that, were you? Come here, mate. Give me a hug.”

He grabbed me towards him and we embraced. His demeanour was warm and welcoming and he hugged me like a long- lost brother.

Who goes to Australia and gets recognised late at night in a random restaurant overlooking Sydney Harbour Bridge by one of the Hoops faithful all because you’re Scottish and your new friend just happens to tune into a podcast you are on? Not many people.

Well, cobbers, it has been an absolute blast and I hope you have enjoyed the daily diary content from the EK Thunder. Sydney has been exceptional from start to finish. Rest assured, I’ll be back. I promise you that.