Much to my horror and dismay Tom passed on the driving role to Vernon “the Buddha” Fox, Fox by name Foxier by reputation. Buddha coming from the Urdu translation meaning “he who talketh copious quantities of shite” often mistaken for “he who achieved enlightenment under the bodhi tree”

Saturday morning, travel insurance documents at the ready, I arrive at the Seacat terminal somewhat cheerily considering the hour and my impending death at the wheel of the Lurgan Fox.

Happily, commander McKay Seacat tickets and season books in hand greeted me. Next to arrive was Aaron, pissed to biblical proportions, (well he is Moses wee bro after all). 

Not even a manky pint of Guinness was enough to save us turning a patriotic shade of green once we left the sheltered waters of Belfast Lough on a shitty crossing to Troon. 45 mins, and 5 laps of the Kilmarnock roundabout later we arrive in Glasgow to be met by our very own Dr Joe and the Hunter eastside posse. Joe in his infinite wisdom had managed to book us into a hotel as close to Dunfermline as possible which meant checking in prematch was not an option.

After a few quick pints it was on to Lynnes for a few more before heading to Paradise. I had that excited anticipation feeling that Jinky and Berti Auld famously talked about in the back of a black taxi every time they see Parkhead.

The match itself was enjoyable without being rousing. A point that was best described by a fellow Celt who managed to sleep the whole way though the 5 goals. Prompting cries of “We shall not be wakened” from the erstwhile drunken O’Connor. Dunfermline came with a Plan A to sit in and defend, when that didn’t work the ripped up the tactics book and resorted to plan A. The fantastic tactician and Jimmy Calderwood rings very hollow after that. This is a point we have talked about a lot the atmosphere just isn’t the same anymore, still its hard to be unhappy with another whopping 5 –0 win. A brace from “Big Bad John”, a superbly taken and then created goal (for Varga) from young Wallace, having lived up to his promise from the previous weeks run out. Then the icing on the cake- from the King of Kings. Having taken it wide of the keeper he managed to cut it back in from an incredible angle right on the touchline. Which kept his record of scoring in every home game in
the SPL this season. Not even the miracle of the tea was required for this match.

Post match we had the honour and privilege to meet the legendary Jim Craig again, and to present him with a somewhat belated 60th birthday gift from the club. After some near hour and half of Jim regaling us with tales from the past and present, The Lurgan Fox not to be outdone managed to chip in some classic statements about Northern Ireland and its Britishness, oh how
could I forget to mention the goal he scored at the Rangers end, not when he had mentioned it for the 30th time that weekend!!

Jim kindly dropped some of us back to the hotel where we had a few pints, some dinner and 40 winks for some before heading onwards to yet another drunken night on the town – the details of which are still fairly hazy to me, however I do recall that the best looking man in Belfast Shamrock managed to spend his subsidy and then some entertaining a young Scots lady. Prompting an inevitable pearl of wisdom from the aforementioned Buddha “ I told you, you always pay for sex in the long run.”
There was some gentle bantering of equally young ‘Gers girlies with all men promising themselves as the bearer of Henkes children if only he would stay another year. And the introduction of Jameson and cranberry juice as the post match drink of choice, needless to say a good night was had in the proper Celtic spirit.

A "it cant be morning already" start the next day and off back down to the seacat, where we somehow managed to get lost yet again, only to be saved by “One man and his dog” and the unforgettable instructions of “Go doon the road you come tae a rundaboot, go straight on, you come tae anuther rundaboot, go straight on …. (Clear throat for spit) you come to anuther…….. 20 mins and 4 roundabouts later (on the way past aforementioned Scots home) we manage to get the second last place on the Seacat.

Arriving in Belfast rejoicing another good weekend for the Celts and Belfast Shamrock.