Hubris got the better of me. Of a few of us, maybe. Dundee United stood a really good chance of heading to the Netherlands and getting a result last Thursday. Or so we thought.
All we needed was a draw after all. We’d beaten them 1-0 at Tannadice in a famous encounter, which had inspired this naive columnist to pen an article saying how great it would be for the entire city if United went on and progressed in the tournament.
You’ll likely know the result by now. But we’ll get to that.
The journey was remarkable. The airport bar bubbled with Dundonian.
Folk were taking on bevvy like water into the hold of a sinking ship.
I had a litre of duty-free vodka that we started battering into on the plane.
On the train, I shared the warm bitter bottle in a bonding exercise wi boys fae Dundee, and two lads fae South America who were great fun.
Three cheery European lassies sat in there with us chatting, but weirdly refused a drink of the warm Absolut.
My pal Billy Kay always says that with United, it’s vital to get your celebrations in early.
And for the next 24 hours that’s exactly what we did.
Hight spirits and high hopes
An arrangement to meet in Nieuwmarkt Square had been spread.
As me and my pal approached through the canal sides and the squinty buildings of the famous old town, we could hear a roar like a concert up ahead.
Nearer still, and the streets were stotting to the sound of a riotous Shed End chant.
Hundreds of us danced and sang and drank and hugged and laughed, bringing bright tangerine to the home of William of Orange.
The night swooped and swam. Sweat poured. The police were few and cheery, the fellow revellers many.
As the night wore on, United fans went round clearing up the empties into plastic bags.
We singers were swept like hot ashes off the square and into the terrace bars as the hours turned from late to early.
The whole drunken, late, hot night collapsed into a forge in which a brand new young hungry United support was created.
We were no longer the team that struggled in the sinksand of the lower leagues for years.
We were European contenders, ready to take on teams across the continent.
Aff to the airport to see the mighty Dundee United in Europe for my first time 😃 pic.twitter.com/Gp7C9tUq1e
— Alistair Heather (@Historic_Ally) August 10, 2022
The Auld Yins had their Barcelonas, their Monchengladbachs, the first Scottish Cup win.
Well we’d finally had ours: the Alkmaar victory at a bouncing Tannadice.
Proof that, when the alchemy is right, we can still be a magic team.
The fun before the fall
The next day, we marched, 1,300 of us, for a full hour from central Alkmaar to the suburban stadium.
Many swapped shirts with AZ fans. I saw young local lassies wearing Dundee United hats they’d been gifted.
We high-fived and shook hands like visiting dignitaries as hundreds and hundreds of locals lined our route through their city.
My pal Ryan and others stopped to clap a friendly dug.
Hours later, the songs were over as we stood shellshocked in the stands as the Dutch team slotted the second, the sixth, the seventh past the Tannadice Terrors.
From the forge to the quenching bucket for the United faithful.
A minter for the ages.
Many, many Scots tuned in to see how the Tangerines would get on. Most were genuinely wishing us well.
Until AZ Alkmaar rattled in the third. Then just about aabdy wanted to see us hammered, because it’s funny.
I can imagine it was funny from home.
Stood there in the stadium, it was like watching the Hindenburg burst into flame.
A horrible thing that should not be.
The worst result, and yet…
The Dees were, quite rightly, rushing to their phones to torment their pals.
I heard one guy drove across Dundee to leave a bottle of 7up on his brother-in-law’s doorstep to welcome him home fae Amsterdam.
And fair enough. We absolutely blew it.
The embarrassment will live with the support, and will hang about the necks of the current manager like a dead albatross.
But so will the new steely resolve, and firmness of support amongst the younger generation.
We’ll know now that, at Tannadice, magic can happen.
Sure, on that turf we’ll get thumped off Livingston, or fall to a draw against some lower-league jobbers in the cup.
But now and again, when the stars align, when the fans are crammed in and the players are in the mood, we are a combined force that can achieve great things.
But allow me one final story from the Dam.
Defeat won’t be my abiding memory of Dundee United in Europe
Me and my pal went out on Friday to a cool Dutch nightspot, well away fae the tourists and the red lights.
We got chatting with a posse of Netherlads.
They asked how come we were there. We mentioned the game.
They said: “Oh, Dundee United fans were on our national news today. You had a big party in the square and then you tidied it all up afterwards. That was really cool!”
I said in my column last week that we’d be flying the flag for the city.
In a way, we did that.
We brought a huge, positive party that roared for 24 glorious hours until kick off.
And folk brought along plastic bags and tidied up after themselves.
And we were generally so sound that we made the news.
The result was embarrassing. But what a fun week for so many in the city.
Let’s hope we do it again next year.
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