Kati B.
Yelp
Oooooh right-o. I realise that my review may be a slight bit affected from last night's breathtaking match performance against Barca and the victory alcohol still coursing through ma veins. But oooohhh... Celtic! Oooohhh... Parkhead! I wonder if there'll be a spike in the Scottish birthrate come August 2013...
Granted it's not in the most beautiful part of town, but well hey-ho, the dichotomy just adds all the more to the beauty that awaits you when you enter the stadium, literally feel the pulse of the crowd around you, and smell the faint sweetness of the primed grass just leading up to a match. And I love that there's no smoking here! The east side is up and coming and will yet again have it's glory days, I tell ya!
I awoke yesterday morning to an envelope left by ma gorgeous husband, containing a card with some simple but poignant and heartfelt lines:
It's been twelve years and still I feel
the best is yet to come.
Each day with you, my cracker dear
makes my heart undone.
Shall the next twelve or twenty-four years
prove as joyful as the last...
Oh boy. I'm going to need a helmet, frying pan, and a good bit of rope!
(The last bit is a wee inside joke - oh how he makes me smile :) This was followed by another note asking me to come out to the kitchen... so I could please make him breakfast!! Keeping it real, the joker :D Okay, I'm getting way off track here -- the final part informed me that in the evening I was to be dressed and ready for action, excitement, rain, and lots and lots of men. I thought silk and pearls were the traditional 12th anniversary gifts, but hey - when your husband offers you an orgy in the mud with lots of men, what's a gal to say?
Needless to say, the incredible man knows me through and through. Fast forward to the evening, I am wrapped to the gills in raingear and wellies, just about to be handed two tickets to a champions league match, ultimately to watch Celtic defeat Barca on their home turf, more or less right in our backyard. I had no words then. Might have squealed for about 5 minutes straight, which explains the neighbourhood dogs going nuts. And today I still have no words (except what is turning out to be a giant essay on this here yelp!), mainly because I lost my voice last night somewhere between the 84th and 85th minute.
I'm going to try and be as objective as I can this morning, and with this disclaimer, I would still venture to say that Celtic Park is one of the more lovelier stadiums I've been to throughout the UK. But a stadium is just a stadium and an ark is just an ark - nothing more - without its animals and inhabitants to bring it to life. And that infectious buzz around and in, before during and after... I'm still humming with the energy of the day and night. My husband is a rugby man and doesn't care as much for footy - one of the rare times we have to fight for the remote - but as for me? Give me a symmetrically round ball! I love football - standing up, sitting down, up against a wall, in a dark room in the back - any which way ;) - but above all else, in a glorious stadium with a glorious tradition and a heart tugging history to back it all up. There's something truly magical about Celtic Park. Even if it's not your home team, a visit is a must for any football fan.
Before turning out the lights, my husband told me that we might not make it to 125 years, but that he hoped to die trying.