Two Miles to Tynecastle

Andrew-Henry Bowie

Description

Andrew-Henry Bowie is a passionate Heart of Midlothian Football Club supporter. He doggedly survived a tough childhood and found solace - sort of - in his overwhelming love of football. The author engages the reader with an energetic and animated account of his years as a Hearts fan and his early years growing up as an Edinburgh 'schemie'. Written with verve and a dry sense of humour Bowie entertains with recollections of a series of calamitous episodes; ironically these seemed to reflect the Hearts' ups and downs! The book is scattered with familiar references to the 80s and 90s; for anyone growing up during this period, this book will stir poignant memories.

Sujets

• Escocia
• Scotland

Informations

• Publié par: Andrews UK
• Date de parution: 19 juillet 2011
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781908548696
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

Title Page TWO MILES TO TYNECASTLE Andrew-Henry Bowie

Publisher Information First buBlished in 2008 By Abex PuBlishing Ltd PO ox 7086, Clacton on Sea, Essex, CO15 5WN www.abexbuBlishing.co.uk Digital version converted and buBlished in 2011 By Andrews UK Limited www.andrewsuk.com Cobyright © 2008 By Andrew-Henry owie The author has asserted his moral rights All rights reserved. This Book is sold suBject to the condition, that no bart of this Book is to Be rebroduced, in any shabe or form. Or By way o f trade, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or By any means, electro nic, mechanical, bhotocobying, recording, Be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated in any form of Binding or cover other than that in which it is buBlished and without a similar condition, including this condition Being imbosed on the suBsequent burc haser, without brior bermission of the cobyright holder. Production Manager: Chris Cowlin Cover Design: Andrew Macey The author has his own weBsite:www.AndrewHenryowie.co.uk In memory of Allan, 1974-2003

Preface 28th June 2006 *Opens new Word document* So, today is a hot Wednesday and I’m at home in Edi nburgh; not long in from work. A short while ago, my wife Lesley walked through the front door with two pregnancy- testing kits. Within about two minutes, the first o ne was flashing ‘pregnant’. The second test said pretty much the same as the first and tha t was an hour ago now. I thought about heading to Tesco to buy a third kit, and mayb e this time I’d pee on it myself. Otherwise, the first gift I have for my unborn child is this book. This is the book of my life, and man has my life ju st changed! Whoever pops out in a little under nine months, I promise to love him or her forever. This book is dedicated and written for you (although I’ll be making you wa it a few years before you can read it). I would also like to devote these pages to my broth er, Robert James Bowie, and my dear friends Lewis Thompson and Kevin English; all of whom encouraged me to write in the first place. Indeed, it was Kevin who suggested that Brian Blessed do the audio version of the book; perhaps hinting at his expecta tion of what sort of story lies ahead. But most of all, I’d like to offer this humble publ ication to my beautiful wife Lesley, who has put up with me typing away like Jack Nicholson in The Shining. Without her, I’d be nothing but a bum.

Acknowledgements Before I started writing this book, I knew I had to try encapsulate the passion and the deep-rooted love that I have for Heart of Midlothia n FC. I hope I succeeded. I tried to balance the Hearts content with the non-Hearts cont ent; after discovering that there really are only so many ways to describe celebratin g a goal! It was uite emotional remembering the old games, but I think it was the m emories surrounding them, and the feelings involving them that gave each story its so ul. Sometimes, I’d lie awake at night (as a hopeless insomniac) and think of an idea. Usu ally things were written on my hand, or on ripped pieces of paper. I also wanted t o share my experiences with people, in order to feel comfortable writing about them. I feel bad for all the times I left Les sitting on the sofa, as I’d be hammering away at my lap-top, writing about stuff that happened twenty-five years ago. I’m lucky to have o ne of those anorak memories for dates, and Borthers was always on hand for grammatical assistance. To find the photograph, I went round to my mum’s ho use, and spent hours in the attic, just as I had done all those years ago holding the Argos punch bag steady for Bobby. It’s like the Museum of Childhood up there, but I n ever did find that bastard 1982 World Cup sticker book! There were places I’d go for inspiration for the bo ok. I went back to the States via Toronto in the summer of 2006, and there I met up w ith Gary ‘Hereward’ and Ron ‘Maple Leaf ‘ from JambosKickback, and they gave me the encouragement and counsel that I needed at a difficult stage in the b ook. Sometimes I’d walk along the Water of Leith, bouncing ideas off (poor) Les. It’s not an attractive river, but it has a sort of intrinsic charm. It takes about three hours to g et to Leith from my house in Corstorphine. Similarly, we’d sometimes go to Almon dell; where again, I’d think about the book, and ask Les her opinion, as the bridges c riss-cross the river. I love the walk too, that runs along Braidburn Valley, from Greenba nk to Liberton. All these places gave me time to think and time to angst. I’m writing this sentence in my favourite seat, at the top of the stairs by the Paolozzi picture, at Starbucks in Stockbridge. The walk here, by the river gave me more time to th ink. Whether I wandered alone, or talked to Les, the entire process involved me worry ing over every last detail of the book’s content, which inadvertently turned Les into a counsellor and a psychologist. For that I am grateful and the therapy is now over. From Roseburn to Dean Village, from Stockbridge to Cannonmills and onto Powderhall , where I’d imagine the Hearts and Hibs fans of the 1896 Scottish Cup Final; to Ne whaven and finally to Leith, and the old restaurant boat where I washed dishes for two m iserable nights all those years ago. It’s good talking to Les, and there the river ends, all gone out to sea. The following people provided me with help, advice and encouragement during the writing of my book. I would also like to thank peop le for being such good friends to me over the years, and putting up with me! Callum Eadie, Mableann Fraser, Alison Mitchell, Ray French @movingstills, Nelson & Pricilla Fernandes, Ross Brown, Scott Moore, Bertha Molet, Jamie ‘Borthers’ Borthwick, Nigel Smith, Ron Butlin, Paul Hartman, Rennie and M aria Robertson, Steve Jones, Mike Smith, Gary ‘Hereward’, Ron ‘Maple Leaf ‘, Ann e Sutherland, Murray Lyons, Colin Roe, Shona & SJ, Lewis Thompson, Kevin English, Sco tty Forsyth, Dale ‘the laugh’ Irvine, David Gilbert, Paul Aylott, Jonny Yeoman, S cott Reilly, Kieran McLachlan, Stuart Connelly, Gavin Teesdale, Laura Johnson, Melvin Har t, Jackie Murphy, Tricia Lamb, Damien Burakowski, Paddy and Joe Barry, Jamie Stobi e, Chris Moffat, Paul Jamieson, Michael Burns, Panda, Paul Laird, Bob Laird, Simon Laird, Mark Fairbairn, Will Page, Tom Page, Graeme Baxter (big time thanks), Sean Jap p, Cat Young, ‘Auld Jock’, Pete Therapist, Andy ‘Ahmed’, Ian Porterfield, Sir James , Barbara Young, Jonny Marshall, Mr Cunningham, Gail Stevenson, Helen Garton, ‘Boris ’, ‘Portobello Jambo’, Colin J.M Barrett, all @ The Diggers Bar, Scott Hughes, DD, D erek Hook, Franco, Nicky Cull, Craig Campbell, Catriona Peat and Sinead Healy. Als o, Brian, Penny, Joanna, Morag and Claudia Barron (two of whom made the Commonweal th Games opening ceremony, much to my disgust), Frank & Cheryl Taylor (hope to see you soon), Fran & Simon,

Gary & Elly, Gordon & Diane, Alan McNaught, Yolanda Wringe, John and Pam, Estelle Liebenberg, Ian Bowie, ‘Das Root’, ‘Lovecraft’, ‘Ty necastle Terrace’, Robert James, Denise & Rebecca Bowie, Stuart, Louise, Emily, Came ron, Kayleigh & the entire Wallace family, Paul Taylor, Pat, Donald Henderson and Andrew Henderson, Sarah Gardiner, Kerrin, Fiona & Joe Lumsden, my mum, Jamb osKickback.co.uk; boysinmaroon.co.uk; ATB; The splendid londonhearts.com website; and not least, Apex Publishing. ...and to Lesley, Jude-Lauren and Heart of Midlothi an Football Club.

Foreword When I was asked to write the foreword for this boo k, I thought I was introducing a simple story of an ordinary guy supporting a footba ll team. But this is much more than that. It is a story, but one written with passion a nd comedy, not only about the Hearts, but growing up in the housing schemes of Edinburgh too. This story is an affectionate account of the highs and lows of following Edinburg h’s oldest and greatest football club, but in a way I’ve never read before. There is real life in this book; real sadness and real laughter. I’ve known the author’s brother, Bobby fo r years and you’ll laugh out loud when you read about these two brothers being forced into sharing the same post code! I grew up not far from Tynecastle, and I recognised the places and streets, as well as some of the people that Andrew writes about in his book. Those of us who know and love Heart of Midlothian FC; and what the club mean s to the supporters; and who have lived their lives in the outlying areas from Gorgie will be in for a real treat. But no matter where you’re from, and no matter what team you supp ort, if any at all; you’ll find this book to be a moving and humorous journey through li fe in the 80s, 90s and beyond. This is a story of an ordinary Hearts supporter, bu t whose talent for telling his story is anything but ordinary. Gary Mackay Heart of Midlothian Football Club (1980-1997)

Itroduction � Thank you for choosing to read this, whoever you ar e. There is one rather perceptible question to ask as to why I’ve decided to write abo ut my life, and the love I have for Heart of Midlothian FC. “So, why are you writing ab out your life and the love you have for Heart of Midlothian FC?” I hear you ask. It’s n ot as if I’m famous; not even in my own house. I’m not a celebrity. If I was I’d say “g et me out of here”. I’ve never appeared on X-Factor or any of those other performing seal s hows. I haven’t climbed K2 or overcome a fascist dictator (apart from living with my big brother, which reminds me of another TV show I’ve never appeared on). So why am I writing my story? Well, hopefully because it will provide you with a compel ling read, and that some passages will make you laugh and cry in places, and sometime s all at once. This composition should also bestow you with the op portunity to get to know me a little better, if that is, you already know me. If you don’t know me from Adam (Stephane, or otherwise), then congratulations: you’ve just sa ved the bother of growing up with me, buying me drinks, carrying me home; and not to mention trying to figure me out. So, my autobiographical raison d’être can be explai ned on two levels. One, I have this story to tell, as you’ll have sensed by the th ickness of the book. And secondly, I see this project as a bookmark for a long running c ourse of therapy I’m conducting. Don’t worry, I’m not depressed or anything like tha t! Therapy comes in all sorts of shapes and forms, and this book is my therapy. With in, I will try to explain my life so far and how I’ve come to reach this point of self-analy sis. This book is quite simply, my ‘right of passage’; the defining document of a jour ney that began way back in the early 1970s. “So what the Charles Dickens is this book all about ?” Well it’s about my life, the challenges that I’ve faced and my love for a Scotti sh Premier League football team called Heart of Midlothian. I’ve written about my t ime supporting Hearts and the memories it left me with. To paraphrase one of those naff work-place stickers : you don’t have to be a Hearts fan to read this book, but (I guess) it helps. Hearts are my team and I make no apology for referring to ‘them’ as ‘we’. In this book there are tales of comedy, and anecdotes of tragedy. There are politics: but only really with m yself. If politics equals power, then I convey how I fought to gain power over myself, and the life I was leading. I also explain the power others had over me; how I felt about it, dealt with it and tried to change it. The impression I hope to leave with you though, is no matter what life threw at me, I faced it with heart, humour and observation; but yo u can make up your own mind. My story isn’t the most famous that’s ever been told, but it’s the only life I’ve ever had. You might have been to the football matches I’ve been t o, suffered similar heartaches, and dreamed the same dreams (though I doubt that very m uch). Judge me not on my right to write, but the way I told my story. The ancient Greeks never wrote obituaries. They wou ld only ask one question: “Did he have passion?” By the time you finish reading my book, all I wish for is that you sensed my passion for life, for Hearts and how I de alt with all the other crap! The final question you might wish to ask is “just w ho in their right mind would want to read the life story of some waffling romantic?” Well...you, I guess... I have this image of a bird’s eye view, high above Tynecastle Stadium on match day. The stadium is still and brooding, but all around, like scurrying ants, are thousands of people making their way to the game. Some are local s, downing their last pint at ten minutes to three. Some are keen, and already in the ir seats. Others might carry the weight of the world on their shoulders, just glad t o get out of the house for a few hours. Many have travelled from far and wide, and with gre at effort. Yet somehow, they all get there to make just one collective body of noise. Ea ch person has their own route, their own routine and their own story to tell. Ladies and Gentlemen, my name is Andrew-Henry Bowie . I was born on August 26th 1973, in Edinburgh, and I’ve lived there ever since . I’m an optimistic, yet somewhat fatigued Hearts supporter and hopeless insomniac. A re you sitting comfortably? Then so it begins. This, is my story...

Enjoy! Andrew-Henry Bowie