In Europe, (part one)

As I am nearing 50 years of watching European football, well okay, a year shy in 2025, but it still got me thinking of which of those jousts I have viewed have stood the test of time, and indeed, are never likely to be forgotten. Stripping out the friendlies, which include Hamilton versus IBK Keflavik and Bolton v Hellas, I have been to 83 competitive European ties so far. Doubtlessly, they all had some form of drama or drama queens, but mostly, they were humdrum or embarrassing Scottish exits as we slumped down the coefficient ratings.

I have seen 18 of the 21 Scottish sides who have played in Europe. Morton was impossible, Airdrie might have happened, but the annoying one that has gotten away on a few occasions was Dunfermline. I am glad I went to one European match at both venues attached to the Glasgow gruesomes, with Faroese or Kazakh involvement, but that door is shut now forever, and I am happy about that.

So, here is my first selection of “classic” European nights titled “In Europe, Part 1”. Perhaps the oldies are the most poignant, the first five here were all games to remember.

1- Hearts v Lokomotive Leipzig 

29th September 1976- European Cup Winners Cup- 1st Round, 2nd Leg

Perhaps you never forget your first ever European match, and as an impressionable 11 year old lad, this was amongst the first games I was ever at. In what was to become a lifetime of curiosity about other lands, now more refined into “certain” lands. The fascination with East Germany had started two years earlier at the West German World Cup. While Carlos Cazley would become my first footballing hero, his Chilean side were in with the two German sides, and when Jurgen Sparwasser scored the only goal, in the only ever competitive match between East and West, if not a hero, but a fascination was born. That passion still exists for those utterly intriguing names that once grace the DDR Oberliga, albeit tempered these days with distress at how badly the East has been “integrated” into a single Germany.

I recall badgering my dad to take me to this game even though it was a school night, and it could include extra time, etc. However, I wanted a slice of East Germany, and I am glad I did, as this would be my only ever encounter with a DDR team. The game was not about to let me down, and I recall walking excitedly along to Tynecastle asking all sorts of questions of dad that we’d know the answers to these days immediately, but back in those pre-Internet days, their genuinely was a cloud of mystery surrounding what life was like on the other side of the Iron Curtain.

Hearts, sporting a forward line of household names; Kenny Aird, Drew Busby, Willie Gibson, Donald Park and Rab Prentice, set about the “crack” East Germans right from the first whistle, and with less than 30 minutes played, defender Roy Kay and Willie Gibson had clawed back the 2-0 deficit. Despite that, Leipzig started to settle, and with International Wolfram Lowe leading the line. They tickled a goal through Joachim Fritsche just before half-time with a near tap-in after exquisite work down the right. The away goals rule was alive and well then, the atmosphere was mute at the break, Hearts needed another two goals.

Just on Sunday, in an Eccellenza promotion play off, Sicilian side Gela trailed Puglian opponents Canosa 2-0 from the first leg, and with just 15 minutes to go, they were still needing two goals to force extra-time. Right on the 75th minute, almost out of nothing, a great cross was headed home, and just as Canosa attempted to recover themselves to see it out 1-0, within a minute it was 2-0 and bedlam ensued. Gela scored in the 90th minute to avert the additional 30 minutes and celebrated promotion for the first time in 27 years in fine fashion. 

I went off on a tangent here because those two quick fire goals and their timing reminded me of this amazing night at Tynecastle and might have inspired these notes. Captain Jim Brown scored on 75, a cross potentially that ended up in the net, but no one was caring. It was quite spectacular. Seconds later, a cross from the left was lifted high, and Drew Busby headed powerfully for Hearts fourth goal and into the aggregate lead for the first time. No one was noting unduly at the time, that East German sides had a penchant for capitulation away from home, and that would be harsh to place that tag on this display, as for thirty second half minutes they covered the ground and snuffed out Hearts, until these two quick fire salvos. “We want five” was the chant, and it duly arrived as the Germans pressed for that all-important second away goal. Willie Gibson supplied the finish, and the greatest night of European football I have ever witnessed was complete.

2- Dundee United v AS Roma

Wednesday 11th April 1984- European Cup-Semi-Final- 1st leg 

Whether the Hearts game in 1976 had been enough to dine out on for life and I wasn’t going to any more games, or more likely other distractions were keeping me from bothering, i remain unsure. Back in those days, people didn’t travel around quite as much to watch just anyone playing. However, a European Cup Semi-Final was a special occasion, and 8 years later, I was at a second European tie. How we got tickets I am unsure, if it even was all ticket! A group of Meadowbank Thistle fans decided to head up to Dundee, and I was the designated driver. I had just finished my banking exam that day, I recall, and dad let me have the car, so we all got up. En route, in a contraflow between Perth and Dundee, a tractor knocked a huge cone across the path of a car about 6 in front of me. He slammed the breaks on, and a concertina of cars slammed into each other. I reacted quickly and somehow managed to avert hitting the car in front, but you could hear the screeching of brakes, then boom, as the car behind smashed into the rear. He was the last of a 7 car pile up, and I was the only one to avoid hitting the car in front. We all parked up on the grass verge, and insurance details were exchanged. Every single car involved was going to the game. Touch wood, it remains the only accident I have ever been involved in, but it was a shock.

I held it together when with my mates, but upon finding a phone box to call home, despite dad telling me he was proud of my quick reactions, I was a blubbering wreck and this absolutely top notch occasion was tarnished and a bit of a blur. 

Dundee United were at the height of their powers in that era, a rare period in Scottish football history when the gruesome brothers weren’t winning things, and they didn’t much like it. Having won the Premier League for the first and only time in 1983, the Arabs, as Dundee United are known, set about a sole European Cup campaign. Hamrun Spartans (8-0 agg), Standard Liege (4-0 agg), and Rapid Vienna 2-2 on aggregate, but winning on away goals, brought them this illustrious semi-final. AS Roma had themselves won a rare Scudetto the year before with Agustino Di Bartolomei skippering a side that included Francesco Graziano, Roberto Pruzzo and Bruno Conti, aided by two brilliant Brazialians Cerezo and more famously Falcao. A young lad who was a substitute at Tannadice was none other than Carlo Ancelotti. 

They might only have been household names in Scotland, but Malpas, Gough, Hegarty and Narey were formidable defenders, with Bannon, Milne, Sturrock and Dodds, the force going forward. Two second half goals in the opening fifteen minutes by Davie Dodds and Derek Stark would give United something to hold onto in Roma. However, this tie is tarnished, not only by my crash but more depressingly by the notion that Roma, so desperate to host the final on their own field, made sure the second leg French referee was bought. I do recall that it was played in the afternoon, rather than the evening. I had recorded the game and sped home to watch after work. My sister, home from an early shift at the hospital, was cooking something in the kitchen, and doubtlessly wanting the TV shouted “it’s not worth watching. They are out”. You know what, I have never seen anything more than the goals as Roma ran out 3-0.

The atmosphere at Tannadice was raucous, and while we didn’t know it at the time, it was the last European Cup Semi-Final ever played in Scotland, and now with all the money involved in the Champions League, I think I can quite safely sit here and say, it will be never happen again, which makes it all the more special to say, I was there.    

3- St Mirren v KV Mechelen

Wednesday 4th November 1987- European Cup Winners Cup, 2nd Round, 2nd Leg

There was a wish to see this one partly courtesy of having been at my first ever Scottish Cup final earlier in 1987, when the Buddies had beaten Dundee United 1-0. They headed to the Arctic Circle to play Tromso in the first round, winning 1-0 on aggregate with the solitary goal in Paisley at the old Love Street stadium. They followed that goalless encounter in Tromso, with an altogether more impressive blank scoresheet in Belgium against a side that were crafting quite a reputation for themselves. 

This match would feature in a Football Weekends tale about St Mirren, when they ran out to play Valur Reykjavik in July last year. Those crammed into their old stadium that night in ’87 (attendance 14,638) would have no idea that it would be the last European game at that venue, nor that it would be 37 years before they got to taste European football again. 

St Mirren weren’t a bad side, but they had lost their talisman scorer, and hero of the cup final Ian Ferguson to Rangers. However, Neil Cooper was endeavouring to keep it all together for the Buddies at the back, along with a cult hero from my Meadowbank days, Peter Godfrey. The midfield had Tony Fitzpatrick and Paul Lambert, while Kenny McDowall was up front. Campbell Money was the custodian, with another well known face as reserve keeper, Les Fridge. He would eventually end up at the Caledonian Stadium, where his unwillingness to come for cross balls became legendary. 

Despite this fine backbone to the Paisley team, Mechelen turned up with more skill and determination. Eli Ohana, Israeli, not Irish, skipped his way through a number of challenges on the edge of the box to fire the Belgians in front in the first half. Needing two goals was always going to be a tough task, and Michael Preud’homme comfortably dealt with anything the home side could throw at them. A St Mirren post was whacked early in the second half, with Ohana lurking for an easy finish. Two down the tie was dead. Mechelen would go onto create their own history by winning this particular edition of the now defunct Cup Winners Cup, seeing off Ajax in the final. A bit like the St Mirren fans though, when Mechelen lifted that trophy, no one would have imagined that to this day, it is still their nation’s last meaningful European Trophy. 

It was only my third European tie, everyone of them without question worthy of inclusion, but while activity would soon start to ramp up, it was a portent of things to come, a first loss on Scottish soil for a home side viewed, things would only get worse!

4- Hearts v Bayern Munich

Tuesday 28th February 1989- UEFA Cup Quarter-Final- 1st Leg

This had been my first ever triumvirate of European ties as Hearts progressed for the only time to a European Quarter-Final. A lifetime of avoiding Euro clashes versus any of Scotland’s near neighbours (not proper European games in my opinion), saw me stay away from Hearts versus St Patrick’s Athletic. Whether that was a conscious decision in 1988 I doubt, but Hearts had won 2-0 in Dublin, and it seemed like a piece of deadwood. Indeed, I have kept up that notion of avoiding Scottish v English/Welsh and both the Irish leagues in UEFA competition, save one unlikely encounter in the UEFA Cup between Gretna and Derry City at Motherwell. It was always likely to be a one off chance to see them in Europe, although the 1-5 mauling they took was perhaps the catalyst for finally seeing the losing Cup Final team lose the right to grab a spot in Europe. Gretna had come within a penalty kick of winning the Scottish Cup after a 1-1 draw with Hearts, but Edinburgh side held firm and saved their blushes. Gretna did at least gain a coefficient point with a spirited 2-2 draw in Derry. That was in 2006, but the door would finally close on the cup losers entry after 2012, where QOS, despite two spirited performances, would lose both ties to Danish side Nordsjaelland.    

However, back to the plot, whatever narrative that has anyway! Austria Vienna were the second round opponents with the first match at Tynecastle. It was a tie with an intriguing side story, in that the Austrian press always liked to play a host team in the run-up. My Bank side, potentially still known as West End FC at that moment (we would later be known as FC Pomona in honour of our two summer trips to Orkney) were asked if we would give them a game. This all came about because the wife of one of our players worked at Hearts, and at the time her husband, who was merely known as Baptie and the lad who was sick all over the bus driver and himself in Orkney, would rise up to be a grade one referee and then head of referees more recently, aka Crawford Allan! Anyway, the game was set for Saughton the night before the match at Tynecastle. We weren’t a bad side, and we thought we’d be up against Chic Young -esque guys. Alas, nothing could be further from the truth. This Austrian press side were super fit, with ample amounts of skill. They seemed like a proper team. We worked our socks off and shook hands, having played the best rearguard action match of our lives. Keeping the score down to a 2-0 loss was a serious victory.

The next evening no goals were scored, and we trudged home thinking that was that. However, Hearts produced one of their best ever European displays in the Austrian capital with a Mike Galloway goal getting them into the third round 1-0 on aggregate. Velez Mostar from a soon to be disbanded Yugoslavia were next at Tynie, where Galloway, Bannon and Colquhoun pretty much made the trip to what is now Bosnia a formality, although did lose 2-1.

That set up this mouthwatering tie with Bayern. The crowds had been gradually growing, just over 11k for St Pats; 14k for Austria Wein and 17,500 for Velez Mostar. Needless to say the arrival of Bayern was the hottest ticket in town, and arguably still the biggest club Hearts have ever faced. The capacity was 26,000 and it was sold out, way less than how many they used to cram in back in the day, and not the biggest crowd I would ever experience at Tynecastle. Later that same year, Scotland hosted the U16 World Cup (well apart from the Saudi side, who seemed a lot older), and en route to final, versus those aforementioned Saudi’s, Scotland played Portugal in the Semi-Final at Tynecastle, where time didn’t allow for tickets, and more than 29,000 (possibly as high as 40,000) were present to avoid crushing outside! Even during the game, a line of fans were guided from the more popular heavily populated end to the other via the old gravel that separated the pitch from the stands. It was a curious sight as play raged.

If that was a memorable occasion with Scotland winning 1-0 versus a side including a young Luis Figo and Paolo Sousa, it would act as a second 1989 memorable 1-0 at the grand old stadium. A few months earlier, Hearts spectacularly stopped the Germans from registering even one shot on target. With talisman scorer John Robertson only fit enough for a place on the bench, creating chances against a side led by Klais Augenthaler and Stefan Reuter were also in short supply, but the adrenaline of the atmosphere didn’t at the time seem to suggest a snooze-a-thon. However, when Iain Ferguson struck a 25 yard racker of a free-kick into the top corner of the goal in front of us, bedland ensued. I always recollect that when everywhere had settled down, this enormous lad had appeared in front of us blocking the view. He was getting called out by those even further back, and thankfully, he disappeared. 

Upon the final whistle, Hearts had bagged the single biggest result on their European CV, and might have claimed the Bavarian capital side’s scalp had John Colquhoun’s effort at 0-0 in the Olympic stadium gone in as opposed to hitting the post. The Germans scored twice, and Hearts missed out on playing Maradona’s Napoli in the next round. Now that would have been quite the occasion!   

5- Hibernian v RSC Anderlecht

Tuesday 15th September 1992- UEFA Cup-1st Round, 1st Leg

This was my second European adventure at Easter Road. Back in the giddy year of 1989, but the next campaign of 89/9, Hibs drew 0-0 with FC Liege, before succumbing if I recall correctly, to a real howitzer of a shot from a long way out, losing 1-0 in Belgium. In the previous round they had played Videoton, and I recall my brother-in-law went with my mate Andy and his dad, but for whatever reason, I didn’t fancy it, or had something else on, probably washing my hair!! 

There is a nice story attached to Hibs winning in Hungary, and those lack of Internet days. Andy had asked how he could learn of the draw for the next round, and I suggested getting to Italy on the Friday, where the pink sports paper would carry the draw from the day before. While perusing this publication in one of those old six in a carriage style wagons, the chap opposite him, wrongly assuming he was Italian, started talking to him. Andy being Andy did his best to communicate, and as luck would have it, the gentleman’s team Juventus were also included in the draw. He alluded to the notion that if Hibs played Juventus, you come and stay with me. Addresses were exchanged, and I guess Andy thought that was that. Well, later that year, even with his team out of Europe, he received a letter in perfect English (written by the son) inviting him to stay and have all the tickets bought for him for the matches in Turin for the 1990 World Cup! He understandably went too, and I visited him the day of the Sweden v Brazil game in the Delle Alpi, complete with a meal at this amazing family’s home. It is one the most heartwarming stories of the power of football ever. 

So, the clock has nudged on three years, and yet more Belgian opposition is in town, but not just any opponent, arguably the biggest team from that country. A first round match as well, still before the days of these competitions being seeded to within an inch of their lives. The opening 45 minutes of this match remain the most imperious I have ever seen from a team visiting Scotland. Anderlecht simply blew Hibs away with Peter Van Vossen, Danny Boffin, Marc Degryse and Johnny Bosman in total control as they trotted off one goal ahead, even though that was merely a penalty. 

The second half continued in the same vein, with Van Vossen putting the Brussels club two in front with merely a quarter of the game to go. Now 2-0 can be a dangerous scoreline, teams can switch off believing the game is down, but here I believe a 50p and mince pie were the catalyst, something akin to the last post being sounded on a bugle, both lobbed at the linesman by disgruntled fans. The crowd got wound up, and the players responded in kind. The previously cool visitors all of sudden seemed less sure, and Hibs pounced on every single morsel of anxiety Anderlecht displayed. Gareth Evans reduced the deficit with 15 minutes to go, then Mickey Weir scored with 6 left, sparking scenes akin to when Hearts scored versus Bayern. They smelt blood and kept going, yet despite near squeaks, it ended 2-2. The aforementioned Andy, a piece away from becoming a decorated author, was off to the Americas to start seeking his fortune the very next day, and I recall he phoned me from the airport in London, still absolutely buzzing. It was a night of high drama that 9 years later would lift that level at Easter Road even higher, a night before I was flying to visit him in Rio de Janeiro. A story for In Europe (part 2)

6- Motherwell v Havnar Boltfelag (HB Torshavn)

Tuesday 9th August 1994- UEFA Cup- Preliminary Round, 1st Leg

Have you noted that the start date for these European matches have been getting earlier and earlier, and as we know now, once July comes around, it’s wall to wall eight weeks of qualifying to make the group stages now, with Scotland in murky Round 2 territory for now.

This game isn’t so much a classic of the play, more the day and the significance. My burgeoning enthusiasm for Faroese football meant that I had a dilemma to mull on this particular night. I wanted to see my first ever Faroese side, and I duly did, but having walked out on Meadowbank in March 1993, more than a year without a team was taking its toll. A new name made its debut in Scottish football that night, Caledonian Thistle, in a league cup match versus East Stirlingshire, at their delightful old venue Firs Park. Here I was at Fir Park (what are the chances) sat amongst the small knot of Faroese (although I would grow to dislike HB). There was probably absolutely no doubt Motherwell would win, and they did comfortably 3-0, but I wanted to always make matches in Scotland when the Faroese came calling. It was a notion that took me to Ibrox (where hilariously, the only two sides I have ever seen them play there no longer exist!-GI Gota became Vikingur and Meadowbank, well we know what happened to them!). I would keep that record of always seeing Faroese national or club sides in Scotland going until NSI Runavik ended up in Edinburgh versus Hibs when I had already booked to go to Orkney with my dear old mum.

Caley Jags beat Shire 2-0 to start their history with a win. The next week, they would thrash Arbroath 5-2 on the opening day of the league season at Telford Street, Inverness. Both events started to gnaw at my psyche, and 1994/95 gradually became the point where I realised I needed a club again. I needed a focus and passion back. It was the best thing I have ever done in the world of football. I had long thought of going to support Hearts as my dad always wanted, but he had left us by then, and I felt I had let him down, so I can only ever cheer for Hearts from afar. In many regards Martin and I, maybe it was more me, had outgrown Meadowbank, and walking before it ended showed our disdain, but had Bill Hunter and his Development Fund from West Lothian never appeared, I have no doubt we would still see Meadowbank as our team. However, they disappeared, and I did my penance.

Football is in my blood, but it isn’t anything if you don’t have a scarf to wear, a flag to plant. Before the next instalment of “In Europe” in July 1995, I was onboard the Caley Thistle train, and in a funny sort of way, it started that night at Fir Park, Motherwell as I regretted not going to Fakirk to see their first ever game. I would make up for lost time, and ICT will eventually appear in these recollections. I never imagined one day that my team would qualify for Europe.