Uncle Archie nodded after a moment. How about it lads?
Not me, replied Danny’s brother. I’ve got to go up the town.
Well then. . Uncle Archie paused and smiled: Me and you Danny boy, eh!
Aye Uncle Archie. Smashing.
Here! — I thought you played the game yourself on Saturdays?
No, the father said, I mean aye — but it’s just the mornings he plays, eh Danny?
Aye. Aw that’ll be great Uncle Archie. I’ve never been to Broomfield.
It’s no a bad wee park.
Danny noticed his mother was looking across the table at his father while she rose to tidy away the breakfast stuff. He got up and went to collect his football gear from the room. The father also got up, he pulled on his working coat and picked his parcel of sandwiches from the top of the sideboard. When the mother returned from the kitchen he kissed her on the cheek and said he would be home about half past two, and added: See you when you get back Archie. Hope the game goes the right way.
No fear of that! We’ll probably take five off them. Uncle Archie grinned, You’ll be kicking yourself for no coming — best team we’ve had in years.
Ach well, Danny’ll tell me all about it. Okay then. . he turned to leave. Cheerio everybody.
The outside door closed. Uncle Archie remained by himself at the table. After a moment the mother brought him an ashtray and lifted the saucer he had been using in its stead. He said, Sorry Betty.
You’re smoking too heavy.
I know. I’m trying to. . He stopped; Danny had come in carrying a tin of black polish and a brush, his football-boots beneath his arm. As he laid the things in front of the fireplace he asked: You seen my jersey mum?
It’s where it should be.
The bottom drawer?
She looked at him. He had sat down on the carpet and was taking the lid off the tin of black polish. She waited until he placed an old newspaper under the things, before leaving the room.
Hey Danny, called the Uncle. You needing any supporters this morning?
Supporters?
Aye, I’m a hell of a good shouter you know. Eh, wanting me along?
Well. .
What’s up? Uncle Archie grinned.
Glancing up from the book he was reading Danny’s brother snorted: He doesnt play any good when people’s watching.
Rubbish, cried Danny, it’s not that at all. It’s just that — the car Uncle Archie, see we go in the teacher’s car and there’s hardly any space.
With eleven players and the driver! Uncle Archie laughed: I’m no surprised.
But I’ll be back in plenty of time for the match, he said as he began brushing the first boot.
Aye well you better because I’ll be off my mark at half twelve pronto. Mind now.
Aye.
It’s yes, said the mother while coming into the room, she was carrying two cups of fresh tea for herself and Uncle Archie.
Danny was a bit embarrassed, walking with his uncle along the road, and over the big hill leading out from the housing scheme, down towards the railway station in Old Drumchapel. But he met nobody. And there was nothing wrong with the scarf his uncle was wearing, it just looked strange at first, the blue and white, really different from the Rangers’ blue. But supporters of a team were entitled to wear its colours. It was better once the train had stopped at Queen Street Station. Danny was surprised to see so many of them all getting on, and hearing their accents. In Airdrie Uncle Archie became surrounded by a big group of them, all laughing and joking. They were passing round a bottle and opening cans of beer.
Hey Danny boy come here a minute! Uncle Archie reached out to grip him by the shoulder, taking him into the middle of the group. See this yin, he was saying: He’ll be playing for Rangers in next to no time. . The men stared down at him. Aye, went on his uncle, scored two for the school this morning. Man of the Match.
That a fact son? called a man.
Danny reddened.
You’re joking! cried Uncle Archie. Bloody ref chalked another three off him for offside! Eh Danny?
Danny was trying to free himself from the grip, to get out of the group.
Another man was chuckling: Ah well son you can forget all about the Rangers this afternoon.
Aye you’ll be seeing a team the day, grunted an old man who was wearing a bunnet with blue and white checks.
Being in Broomfield Park reminded him of the few occasions he had been inside Hampden watching the Scottish Schoolboys. Hollow kind of air. People standing miles away could be heard talking to each other, the same with the actual players, you could hear them grunting and calling out ids. There was a wee box of a Stand that looked like it was balancing on stilts.
The halftime score was one goal apiece. Uncle Archie brought him a bovril and a hot pie soaked in the watery brown sauce. A rare game son eh? he said.
Aye, and the best view I’ve ever had too.
Eat your pie.
The match had ended in a two all draw. As they left the terracing he tagged along behind the group Uncle Archie was walking in. He hung about gazing into shop windows when the game was being discussed, not too far from the station. His uncle was very much involved in the chat and after a time he came to where Danny stood. Listen, he said, pointing across and along the road. See that cafe son? Eh, that cafe down there? Here, half a quid for you — away and buy yourself a drink of ginger and a bar of chocolate or something.
Danny nodded.
And I’ll come and get you in a minute.
He took the money.
I’m just nipping in for a pint with the lads. .
Have I to spend it all?
The lot. Uncle Archie grinned.
I’ll get chips then, said Danny, but I’ll go straight into the cafe and get a cup of tea after, okay?
Fair enough Danny boy fair enough. And I’ll come and get you in fifteen minutes pronto. Mind and wait till I come now.
Danny nodded.
He was sitting with an empty cup for ages and the waitress was looking at him. She hovered about at his table till finally she snatched the cup out of his hands. So far he had spent twenty five pence and he was spending no more. The remaining money was for school through the week. Out from the cafe he crossed the road, along to the pub. Whenever the door opened he peered inside. Soon he could spot his uncle, sitting at a long table, surrounded by a lot of men from the match. But it was impossible to catch his attention, and each time he tried to keep the door open a man seated just inside was kicking it shut.
He wandered along to the station, and back again, continuing on in the opposite direction; he was careful to look round every so often. Then in the doorway of the close next to the pub he lowered himself to sit on his heels. But when the next man was entering the pub Danny was onto his feet and in behind him, keeping to the rear of the man’s flapping coat tails.
You ready yet Uncle Archie?
Christ Almighty look who’s here.
The woman’s closing the cafe.
Uncle Archie had turned to the man sitting beside him: It’s the brother’s boy.
Aw, the man nodded.
What’s up son?
It’s shut, the cafe.
Just a tick, replied Uncle Archie. He lifted the small tumbler to his lips, indicated the pint glass of beer in front of him on the table. Soon as I finish that we’ll be away son. Okay? I’ll be out in a minute.
The foot had stretched out and booted the door shut behind him. He lowered himself onto his heels again. He was gazing at an empty cigarette packet, it was being turned in abrupt movements by the draught coming in the close. He wished he could get a pair of wide trousers. The mother and father were against them. He was lucky to get wearing long trousers at all. The brother was having to wear short trousers and he was in his last year at school, just about ready to start serving his time at the trade. Boys nowadays were going to regret it for the rest of their days because they were being forced into long trousers before they needed to. Wide trousers. He wasnt bothered if he couldnt get the ones with the pockets down the sideseams, the ordinary ones would do.