By Richard Hunter
Loyalty means nothing unless it has at its heart the absolute principle of self-sacrifice.”
Woodrow T. Wilson

Sickness would not have kept me away from this one. If I’d been dead, I would have had them bring the casket to the ground, prop it up in the stands, and cut a hole in the lid.” Bill Shankly – after beating Everton in the 1971 FA Cup semi-final.

Shankly. In the days when health & safety rules were more lax and you could prop up caskets in the stand. Apparently.

There has been a lot said about football fans, both good and bad, but the one unquestionable area has always been their loyalty. Someone once told me that only 2 types of people didn’t get mixed up in football. The upper classes and clever people. I retorted that this could probably be shortened to one group, This being a family publication i wont tell you the sub heading I chose for them but suffice to say it started with a C. Thats the thing about football, deep down we probably all know that we’d be slightly better of if we had never bothered – and certainly my heart would be grateful of it – but if anyone points this out or decides to attack the Beautiful Game then we retaliate with all the force of a mother defending her child. It’s our game, our one true love. Most football fans would give up their wives before their team, because – lets face it – the team’s been around longer. You also chose your wife, but there’s a fair chance you didn’t choose your team.

I should say that I was born almost in the shadow of Easter Road. Then my family moved out of Leith and to a town an hour outside of Edinburgh. This resulted in me being sat down at the age of 4 and given the ultimatum. Which team would i be cheering on? I was asked, “So, your local team is Falkirk, you were born in Edinburgh. I’d say you can choose from Hearts (this was more spat out than i can convey in text, all that was missing were some pantomime villains in the background to draw a BOO ), Falkirk, or the almighty Edinburgh Hibees (at 4 which one are you going to chose?). I should add that if you pick Falkirk none of us will be going to the games with you, and if you pick Hearts none of us will talk to you.”

Sparks flying at Easter Road. An unfamiliar sight during Colin Calderwood's tenure.
So there you have it, my 4 year old brain was left to ponder a teaser. I wish now i’d said “Fuck the lot of ye, I’m going to support Edinburgh City” and been done with it. If nothing else, it would have displayed quite an advanced grasp of swearing for a 4 year-old. Alas, I chose the green and white of Leith and haven’t looked back. I should also point out that about 10 years after that original encounter I was again told to choose an English Premiership side to follow. I always assumed this was to broaden my footballing-world or show me some of the class outside of Scotland, but i’m fairly certain my Uncle just felt St James Park needed a few extra Scots kicking about come full-time. And so, Hibernian FC and Newcastle are my teams. For all of you Hearts and Sunderland fans reading this and hating or judging me right now, well, “get it up ye”. I’m loyal and so too are you my friend. We will never share that full-time whistle hug, or reflect on glories past, but then that – I suppose – would involve either of you having some decent moments to reflect upon. (ok, i apologise, that was a cheap shot)

Anyway, on with the Loyalty.

Narrowly missing out on a lifetime of collecting Edinburgh City programmes.
All football fans have an unerring optimism or an exceptional pessimism towards their team, be that club or country. They can always be seen to lean that little bit further forward in their chair when the big number 10 is lining up a shot, or jump up exhilarated before the ball bounces of the crossbar and then crash down to their seat with the hope of what was about to be gleaming in their eyes. Is this built up over years of investment in a side or watching that young number 10 grow into the mature 18 yard box terrier he has surely become? NO. I’ve realised one thing in following football for some 28 years and attending games at Easter Road for nearly 23. It’s not a 5 year plan, it’s there. From birth. Hence why a 28 year old man just told you he had been following football for 28 years. When I was sat down and “asked” which team I’d like to follow, the answer was already clear to everyone else in the room. I was a Hibee and come rain or shine, Hell or high-water I always had been and always would be. That love may remain dormant until you’re forced into picking your team or attending your first game, but the end result is that you will become the patriotic member of whatever army you stand with.

I’ll wager that if anyone of you were sitting in the pub, or on a train or bus, and heard someone badmouthing your team you would instantly hate that person and feel compelled to turn around/stand up and tell them exactly where to get off. Perhaps not on the bus or train as this would just be called giving directions and not really much of a telling off. And yes, i’m aware we are still British so the fact remains that we would probably just sit there, stewing in our contempt, imagining standing up and telling this cretin exactly how we feel about them instead of actually doing it. You would happily exchange your free time, money, work holidays etc just to be a part of the team’s success. There is something deep and meaningful about standing in the stadium hearing the names being read out on the team sheet over the loud-speaker… and the collective groan when you hear that “diddy” you signed last year is starting yet again. Still, somehow, you’re cheering his name only 8 short months later after he scores a bullet header against your biggest rivals. Joe Tortolano anyone?

Joey T, a cult figure. What's a cult figure? A largely terrible player who occasionally did something unfathomably good.
The point I’m trying to make is fair play to all of you true football nuts, those who stand on the terraces (I know we dont really have terrace’s in modern football anymore, but I’ll be fucked if I’m typing anything else) on some freezing cold, drizzly day in January to watch a terrible 0-0 draw and still walk away with optimism that next week in the local derby we can stick 5 or 6 past them. The unfortunate thing is that although I have a fondness for everyone of you, dont dare approach me if you lot have just beaten my team. I wont be happy about it.

And so, there we have it. Perhaps it does take a special type of idiot to truly love the beautiful game, or perhaps we are the clever ones. Either way, I think you can divide the population into 2 types of people. There are those who show loyalty to their clubs, the sport, and turn a blind eye to the misery so that we can appreciate the joy even more… and there are all those other C’s.
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About the Author
Richard Hunter did his first stand-up gig in 2007, and that experience turned out to be so amazing he didn’t set foot on stage again until 2009. In Australia. After 2 years of travelling around the land Down Under (leave that joke alone) he came back to Britain and started gigging 9 months after his return. Apparently it takes time to get of your arse and look for gigs, plus it was best if he waited until his teeth stopped chittering. He has been taking stand up seriously for around 8 months now and has written for News Jack on BBC radio 4 and is to be seen in new BBC Three comedy drama Pram Face. Although if you go to make a cup of tea you will probably miss him. He is a lifelong Hibernian fan/sufferer who sincerely believes that he will see Hibs lift the Scottish Cup before he gets married, but please don’t pass on that information to his current girlfriend as she may want to be married before 2050.

Richard’s greatest asset is his ability to read and entertain the audience
Edinburgh Evening News

A class act, it wont be long before he is seen on his own rather than supporting others
Melbourne HeraldSun

Can you please clean your room and do the bloody dishes
Every person I’ve ever lived with. 1990-Present

Oh to be a Hibee! Richard Hunter tells all.

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