Season Rivet - Part 1: 'It's all about the Batteries'

Last updated : 05 June 2008 By Stand Free Ed

Right we needs a laboured analogy/metaphor tae describe oor season...obviously nae something as lame as 'it was a rollercoaster of a season' (I mean fah do ye think we are, the Evening Express?)

Maybe something as pretentious and as wanky as thon Dickens quote: 'It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...' ...nah, we'll leave that bollocks tae Graham 'Britney' 'David Murray winna take me on his jet and show me a good time anymair' Spiers.

Hud on I've got een...aye, a pish een but een all the same: 'It was an Ever Ready season'.

For the younger readers who are gaun 'whatthefu..??', a long long time ago afore Duracell ruled the world (and provided an absolutely hilarious schoolyard nickname for ginger basturts everywhere [Hoy! - Ed]) there was a battery ca'ed 'Ever Ready' who's name it has to be said was, wi hindsight, slightly ironic on account of them bein' shite and rarely ever ready fer use.

The average life expectancy of an Ever Ready was...oh...about an hour and a half tops, then yer Walkman or ghetto blaster would grind tae a halt in the middle of yer taped copy o the previous wik's Top 40.

The thing was, as every experienced Ever Ready user knew, if you left it for about an half an hour or so you'd find they suddenly have a bit of more life in them and this trick could be repeated again and again and again.

Ken, a bitty like oor season. Every time we were about tae walk away and write the season off it would burst back into life…die….burst back intae life…die…burst back into...

Aw f*ck it! I take it you've got this rather laboured analogy by now eh? See, I telt ye it wis shite.

The fact is Aberdeen FC in the 2007/08 season cannae be summed up in one sweeping phrase. Our season pretty much had a bit of everything and touched virtually every emotion you can feel as a fitba fan from uncontrollable anger to euphoric delirium.

What has been noticable is that there are now two very distinct camps within the Red Army who, for the sake of argument (and tae save me some typing), we'll refer to as JIGs ('Jimmy Is God') and JINGs ('Jimmy Is Not God') who have completely opposing views.

The JIGs will point to the fact we ticked off all the pre-season wishlist boxes, how we exceeded even our wildest expectations in the UEFA Cup and even with our obvious flaws had enough to finish 4th in the SPL.

The JINGs will point to the Tombola and its 20-plus central defensive partnerships, the semi-final fiascos, conceding three goals or more 16 times, the A90 blues and the general overarching wankness of the Calderwood regime.

So bizarre was our season that these diametrically opposed views were both in their own way 100% correct.

Anyway let's break the season down into its constituent parts...

The SPL

Our bread and butter, our fish and chips, our daily grind etc etc. Take out the joyous schadenfruede of the final game and lets be honest here we were f*ckin awful for most of it and yet we finished 4th?

And ahead of those media darlings Hibs and United?

And if you want an 'if yer auntie hud baws she'd be yer uncle' take on it, if we'd have got those April 'goals' at Parkhead and Fir Park ruled out due to imcompetence/bias by refs and linesmen (f*ck that 'Assistant Referee' bollocks) and if we'd had been allowed to postpone the Motherwell game before Copenhagen, we probably would have had enough to take 3rd!

At home we were pretty solid, it was just when we headed south (god bless Inverness Cannabeatus Thistle)...bejesus we were bad. One point against the rest of the Top Six on the road (and we were f*cking leading 3-1 in that een), somehow contriving to give Gretna a point despite saving a last minute pen, fumbling past Smurn thanks to Lovigol, a smash and grab at Killie and a tedious point in a tedious game against Falkirk and that was that for the travelling Reds this year.

If you put 'Aberdeen to lose 3-1 away' on yer line this year you would have made a feckin fortune…but as Ebbe said: 'Statistic are like mini skirts' etc, and some of those like the spring defeats at Ibrox and Easter Road were harsh as we dominated the opening half before being scunnered in the second.

But for every heroic road failure there was a dire blow out like 3-0 to a Robson inspired Pikeys or 3-1 to a truly insipid Killie involving three formation shifts from our esteemed Tactical Genius by half time.

The JIGs will point to the fact that we were damn close to taking a UEFA spot, whilst the JINGs will point out that at times our worst enemy was the guy in our own dugout….the league as a whole was ridiculously poor this year and it's undeniable that our managers pointless tinkering with the lineups and tactics contributed hugely to our underperformance and ultimately denied us a UEFA spot.

The Tin Pot Cup

An abbreviated tourney this year thanks to our UEFA spot and thankfully someone had knocked out Queens Park for us before we'd even taken to the floor. Bin Man's Jakie Army were disposed of in the first game, Consi, Deek and a missed Rowson penalty meant we cantered into the quarters, where thanks to a Barry Nic hat-trick [Gonnae just stay eh Barry? - Ed], Cannaebeatus Thistle were pushed aside at a deserted Todders (we wis ah guisin or summat).

And so it was we reached our first national semi-final since the days of Uncle Ebbe. All the signs were there…first we drew the Buns but turns out the Tory Holyrood speaker cannae tell the difference between a 2 and a 3...we were tae play the Pikey Jute Minks instead…ya dancer!

Of course in between the draw and the original date the Ginger Inverurie Hun tore us a new one in the league game at Tannadice but the heavens opened and thankfully by the re-arranged date the Ginger Inverurie Hun had become...er...the Ginger Inverurie Tim...surely this was a sign fae the Gods that we were destined to go tae Hampden and lift our first silverware since Oasis were the next big thing?

Certainly looked that way when Consi gave us the lead, alas from that point out we collapsed like a cardboard dam trying to hold back a tsunami, Clangers lost it, our manager's formation had players out of position and completely lost and as a result we made an ordinary side look like Brazil '82.

By the time our captain teed up their fourth, most Dandies were out the ground cursing the Cuprinol Coated buffoon and all his damnable works of the devil.

This truly was the night that a section of our support turned it's back on Calderwood for good...well at least till we win something. As a support we can handle defeats, even heavy ones, it was the overall cluelessness that grated - magnified exponentially by the sound of gloating Pikeys.

The Scottish Cup

First up were Falkirk where we lead twice and were pulled back twice. I wasnae at the game but Cuervo was and he swears on his daughters life we played the entire second half without a frontline and cites this as the moment he joined me in the JINGs camp.

A few weeks later dans 'The Howff' we were watching Celtic tear us a new een at Todders and the every appearance of our manager on screen had a stream of obscenities flying oot oor mouths, so much so a member of staff (who also thought he was a c*nt) asked us to moderate our language as there were ladies present. Doctors later diagnosed our condition as 'Calderwood Tourettes'.

Anyway once again in part 'protest', part 'couldnae be arsed' I missed the replay and as is the way of these things we turned in a classy show and swept Falkirk aside.

Next up were Hamilton at a sub-Arctic and deserted Pittodrie, and truth be told they played us off the park...a cool Zander finish after a great through-ball outrageously robbing them of the quarter-final berth they probably deserved.

Celtic at home and a half empty ground (our league form was dire and even some of the hardcore expected a heavy defeat...well that's our line and we're sticking to it) and whaddayeknow but we play well and thanks to a JDV goal of great beauty are 20 seconds away fae a semi wi Queen o the South...only for the tea leafin bastards to equalise through John Vinegar of Hasselbank fae a move starting from a free kick that never was...BASTARD!

In more hope than expectation then the hardcore travelled to Parkhead and showed the self proclaimed 'Greatest Fans in the World' what the best travelling support in the land looks and sounds like…it was nae contest we pished all over them in the stands including the delivery of a note perfect rendition of 'The Northern Lights'…oh and we won thanks to a precision finish/trundling sclaff fae Mackigol. A night of glorious celebration ensued for the Aberdonia nation, in particular Glasgow Red Nellie H who had on a £10 Mackie/1-0 double at 100/1 and was last seen heading into the Merchant City to drink it all in a oner.

And so it was Saturday April 12th 2008, which started with a happy-go-lucky kegged-up Red Army taking the journey south to watch us walk past those plucky Dumfries minnows ca'ed Queen of the South...hell I even found time to patronise some of them: 'Enjoy yer day lads'…I mean there was no way this shower of pish could deny us our date wi destiny…and anyway we'd already regally f*cked up one semi-final, there was no way on God's earth that could happen twice eh?

Of course it did. I winna go into too much detail as to how we lost it, we just did. And ye know who after every giant killing they go: 'Aye but if they'd played it ten times the favourites would have won nine of them'...we were so rank we couldnae even use that.

My abiding memory of the day was post match. Me and RLR had done a high speed yomp fae the ground and hit the 'International Bar' we steamed in ranting and raving with the Calderwood tourettes at full volume and ordered our drinks...then at what seemed like 30 second intervals more Reds piled in doing exactly the same thing...the local barflies obviously knew the score and found something of intense interest in the bottom…I think they'd sussed making eye contact or being suspected of smilin would have been an instant death sentence such was the fury and anger of the Dons that afternoon.

To lose a semi-final is forgivable, to f*ck up so spectacularily twice against non-OF oppostion is irredeemable. What every Dandy I spoke to that day wanted to do to the Cuprinol Coated F*ckwit would have made an SS Concentration Camp Guard boak.

UEFA Cup

After all that though I've saved the best for last.

Make no mistake our UEFA campaign was a complete and unexpected delight for everyone with the Dons in their hearts. Yes, we only won once but fitba isnae just about the results it's about the experience and our side gave us a collection of nights that will warm even the coldest and cynical heart…hell after Copenhagen even our resident Trans-Atlantic/Dalry-based curmudgeon Kelt appeared to be happy.

It began with a tie against Dnipro Dnipro-unpronouncable...a tight 0-0 at the Old Lady meant hopes werenae high as we travelled to the Ukraine but my god what a night. I was at the bar getting a round in when Rickaldinho swept down the wing and planted that ball on Mackigol's napper and witnessed the Triple Kirks become a seething delirous mass of humanity as drinks and bodies were launched into delirous euphoria, as random strangers bounced and hugged each other whilst howling at the moon...it was simply f*ckin magical.

Into the groups and off tae Athens - we were naive, they were ordinary, and we lost 3-0 but hard lessons were learned so when Inverurie Locos' Russian feeder team came a-callin they passed us off the park but we caused them problems of our own and could even have won with a bit of luck.

Ontae Madrid where Reds found out the Guardia Civil are a complete shower o c*nts…oh and Atletico were a classy side. Nae dishonour in defeat by a free-kick and a penalty and, over-reactions aside, a throughly enjoyable trip for all those who made it.

At that point we were effectively out. Then, just as would happen when we made the Top Six and then almost happened again when we were gunning for the UEFA slot, every result we needed to go for us did...all we had to do was beat the Danish champions the Thursday before Xmas.

What unfolded was one of Pittodrie's greatest nights (to a horn sound track). A tense first half, then in the second, inspired by Jamie Smith we blew away a side with Man U and Celtic scalps on their belt. We made them look dreadful but take nothing away we were absolutely fan-bloody-tastic….aye and the team were nae bad either!

Bayern! We want Bayern!' was the battle cry and sure enough in the Friday lunchtime draw Santa duly delivered a rematch to mark the 25th Anniversary of 'Pittodrie's Greatest Night'. Nae offence but 'Pittodrie's greatest 15 minutes' would probably be a more accurate description of that night.

The 2008 version surpassed it in terms of atmosphere and volume, it was non stop. Prior to this season the 'special atmosphere at Pittodrie on European nights' was just marketing bullshit…nae this time - we rose to the task and f*ck me did oor players nae n'aw!

For 45 minutes we had one of the genuine A-list sides in world fitba wondering what in the name of f*ck they'd walked into - we tore them a new one. Sone Aluko for example gave their fullbacks the 'Mick Mills twisted blood thing'. In fact we were so damn good that night I keep having to remind myself that we didnae actually win that game!

At last the Reds of my vintage and older had something from our beloved Dons to repay the blind faith and wasted youth following the keech served up by Alex Miller and Aitken et al...and for the younger eens, well they finally witnessed in the flesh what us aulder yins had been bangin on about. That against Bayern, and in fact the whole UEFA campaign, ladies and gentlemen is how ye build up fitba clubs and their support.

Ok so we got humped in the Allianz but who cared, we'd had our fun and made our point by then and even though it sticks in a cynical JING like me's throat…this campaign showed Jimmy Calderwood CAN manage…he took a squad of limited ability and experience up against superior opposition and he made them perform above their ability...that's management in anyone's books.

I'm among the first to condemn the man (mainly because I can't understand why he can do it against Bayern and yet f*ck it up against Queens) but god bless him this campaign can never be taken away from him and as a Dons fan it was an absolute pleasure to watch.

So there ye go there go Aberdeen FC 2007/08…an almost indescribable mixed bag….apologies for the War and Peace/Merkie's articles in 'The Red Final' length but feck ye….you write it then ye lazy bassa's!

As per usual yer free to express yer own opinions on our year via the message board and I'll be back soon wi Parts 2 (Mangers and Players), 3 and 4 (The rest of the SPL).

The Red Avenger