Post by Scozzese on Jun 25, 2003 21:04:40 GMT
This is not a funny story, but more the tale of how I undertook a pilgrimage last year...
My story involves a trip to the scene of the greatest ever goal scored by a Scotsman, and arguably the best ever goal in a World Cup; yes, that's right, Archie's goal against Holland in 1978.
Last year I went to South America for a couple of weeks with a friend, having no planned itinerary apart from flying into Buenos Aires and out of Santiago a couple of weeks later. We had realised in advance that a trip to Mendoza would be great, but bearing in mind the short time and few plans that we had, it didn't look like it would be possible. However, we were travelling to Argentina at just the time that the economy was really
in trouble, and the political situation was becoming unstable (obviously not for the first time in the past 60 years), and we were advised not to undertake too many internal flights as the airlines could go bust at any
point - this ruled out the trip to the Iguaza Falls, and a trip south to the parts where they still speak Welsh (and not only the sheep are running scared, but also the alpacas). After sinking way too many pints on the first night there (which I still think is the best way to overcome jetlag), we decided that a couple of days in Uruguay, and then flying west to Mendoza to see the stadium where it all happened was the way forward. A
few days later, upon arrival in Mendoza, we hired a car and sorted out a map of the area, and so headed to the stadium the next morning.
The first thing we noticed was that there was still a sign up about WC'78, then we saw it - we walked down to it, and realised that we could even go into the ground, and right down to the pitchside. Sadly, there is a moat
there, and we could not get onto the pitch, but we were right down behind the goal. We got a few locals to take pictures of us beside the ground - they must have been baffled as to why these pasty foreigners were visiting a ramshackle football ground and taking pictures. It really was a magic moment - I remember watching the matches from WC'78 on the TV, but didn't really appreciate what was happening, and what a good team we really did have back then. Now every time I see that goal on TV, I can say that I have been at the ground where it actually happened, and stood behind the actual goal. I'd like to think that if I'd been old enough I would have been there at the match to witness it, and lived the dream for the few minutes until Jonny Repp blasted the ball past (a static) Rough. It's a great memory, and certainly happier than some of the matches I've witnessed in the past few years...
My story involves a trip to the scene of the greatest ever goal scored by a Scotsman, and arguably the best ever goal in a World Cup; yes, that's right, Archie's goal against Holland in 1978.
Last year I went to South America for a couple of weeks with a friend, having no planned itinerary apart from flying into Buenos Aires and out of Santiago a couple of weeks later. We had realised in advance that a trip to Mendoza would be great, but bearing in mind the short time and few plans that we had, it didn't look like it would be possible. However, we were travelling to Argentina at just the time that the economy was really
in trouble, and the political situation was becoming unstable (obviously not for the first time in the past 60 years), and we were advised not to undertake too many internal flights as the airlines could go bust at any
point - this ruled out the trip to the Iguaza Falls, and a trip south to the parts where they still speak Welsh (and not only the sheep are running scared, but also the alpacas). After sinking way too many pints on the first night there (which I still think is the best way to overcome jetlag), we decided that a couple of days in Uruguay, and then flying west to Mendoza to see the stadium where it all happened was the way forward. A
few days later, upon arrival in Mendoza, we hired a car and sorted out a map of the area, and so headed to the stadium the next morning.
The first thing we noticed was that there was still a sign up about WC'78, then we saw it - we walked down to it, and realised that we could even go into the ground, and right down to the pitchside. Sadly, there is a moat
there, and we could not get onto the pitch, but we were right down behind the goal. We got a few locals to take pictures of us beside the ground - they must have been baffled as to why these pasty foreigners were visiting a ramshackle football ground and taking pictures. It really was a magic moment - I remember watching the matches from WC'78 on the TV, but didn't really appreciate what was happening, and what a good team we really did have back then. Now every time I see that goal on TV, I can say that I have been at the ground where it actually happened, and stood behind the actual goal. I'd like to think that if I'd been old enough I would have been there at the match to witness it, and lived the dream for the few minutes until Jonny Repp blasted the ball past (a static) Rough. It's a great memory, and certainly happier than some of the matches I've witnessed in the past few years...