Saturday sees the Scottish Cup semi-final where Hibs face Falkirk in what is billed as the easier tie of this round.
We Hibs fans are a pessimistic lot in cup competitions. As a councillor, if ever I am handing out trophies at community events I get weak at the knees at the sight of silverware. When the council uses Easter Road as conference venues council staff will ask what they were expected to drink their tea-break coffee in as there are no cups at Easter Road.
Hibs haven’t lifted the oldest trophy in football for 111 years! 111 not out is known in cricket as a Nelson – I know this because Hearts fans took great delight in rubbing it in last year after the cup final.
That was a great day out until about 3pm – when the game actually began!
At half-time Hibs were 2-1 down and as they ran back on to the pitch the tannoy was playing the rather appropriate Livin’ on a Prayer. I looked down to tweet something and before I looked up a penalty had been awarded and a man sent off. The rest is painful history.
Like the lottery, you have to be in the cup to win it and every year for as long as I can remember I have wondered: “Could this be our year?”
My nephew clearly decided it wasn’t the other week. Kevin sported a rather long ponytail and had promised to keep it until the cup went back to Easter Road.
The Colombian drug baron look really doesn’t suit him (it doesn’t suit Colombian drug barons either) and his stepmother had the scissors sharpened in readiness.
After the 5-1 trashing the ponytail stayed, much to her chagrin, until a couple of weeks ago. Kevin finally gave in, but in the name of a good cause. He had it surgically removed by a hairdresser, all to raise money for cancer relief.
Anyhow, the incentives for the Hibs players are massive. If they win through to the final and if somehow they finally break their cup hoodoo they will be instant legends in Leith. Their names will be uttered above baptismal fonts as the offspring of the fanatical are named after their cup winning heroes.
Not on my Watch
I find it absolutely astonishing that the Edinburgh International Festival rejected the smash-hit play Black Watch because it was perceived as being too parochial.
The play, based on interviews with soldiers from the now disbanded regiment, was one of the first productions of the Scottish National Theatre. It has sold out theatres throughout the world and has been the high point in the Scottish National Theatre’s existence.
I pride myself on having a strong international perspective but to ignore such a wonderful home-produced work because it was “too parochial a story, no-one will get it” strikes me as a monumental misjudgement.
One from the art
NEXT week I will be attending the inaugural prize-giving of the Eduardo Paolozzi prize.
The prize was my bright idea a wee while back to remember a great Scottish artist and to help some of our bright up-and-coming artists in our schools who may be keen to pursue a career in art.
I spent the afternoon of Good Friday holed up in a room in the Festival Theatre with the other judges, who all had strong connections to the great man. The quality of the entries was very high and I am looking forward to the works being seen by the public later on in the year.