Forty years ago Dundee United finally came of age and I watched them do it, amid a sea of dark blue, in the Provie Road end at Dens Park.
With 29,106 packing Dens out, the only space I could get, along with my wife, was in the Dundee home end.
It was a day of fears, cheers and tears as United finally cemented their place in the history books by winning the Premier Division title.
Along with my regular squad, we started our pre-match ritual as always in the Athletic Bar, near Dens.
Traditionally nicknamed ‘Hungry Boab’s’ on account of the previous owner’s legendary tightness, mine host was Doug Smith, the former United skipper and director.
The bar was hoaching before the game, with both sides of the Tannadice street divide enjoying the banter and the beer, but for Arabs, the nerves were palpable.
We made our way along the raucous half mile to Dens knowing that a win would give United their first ever top title.
I vividly remember thinking of the away games I’d travelled to over the years as a younger fan, when United were often accompanied by only a couple of busloads of supporters.
For some reason, a game at Central Park, Cowdenbeath, in 1970 lodged in my mind; I recalled United winning 2-0 but mainly remembered a few of us huddled on the frozen wastes of the Fife terracing, trying to light a wee fire with scraps of wood because of the bitter cold.
It seemed incongruous, looking around at the thousands clad in tangerine at Dens and seeing how far United had progressed since those days.
It’s fair to say I’d had a few snifters and, between the nerves and the excitement in the build up to the kick-off, my senses were somewhat hazy, but, when Ralph Milne’s outrageous chip sailed over Colin Kelly in the fourth minute, a Zen like clarity descended for a millisecond, followed by absolute pandemonium.
When the bedlam was repeated with Eamonn Bannon’s second goal, seven minutes later, I clearly remember a wave of calm sweeping over me; an unshakeable conviction that all would be well.
As a fan, I’d been on the pitch celebrating with thousands of Scots at Wembley in our legendary 2-1 win over England in 1977, and I’d celebrated in the Anfield Road end at Liverpool, when Scotland beat Wales that same year to qualify for the World Cup in Argentina.
But the emotions of seeing the league title being won, which is the ultimate test of any great team over a long, gruelling season, eclipsed both of those experiences.
After the victory celebrations, we headed back to a deliriously happy Athletic Bar until late in the night, where owner Doug Smith put an end to the pub’s nickname ‘Hungry Boab’s’ by putting up a drink on the house for every punter, including the few Dark Blues, who’d stoically endured their rivals’ celebrations.
The victory at Dens immortalised United’s 14-man squad that day, which included six players from the city area.
Manager Jim McLean had often called United the corner shop competing against the supermarkets.
They were much less well-resourced than Celtic and Aberdeen, who were both a point behind going into the final day, and whose results they only had to match at Dens to win the flag.
It was a unique triumph for the band of brothers McLean had moulded with his excellent coaching skills and tactical nous, and which had a work ethic and fitness levels few could match.
Funnily enough, a few years back, I was to find out how those few Dundee fans in the Athletic Bar that night felt when I was the solitary Arab among them in nearby Frews Bar as they celebrated their success in the infamous ‘Doon Derby’.
They enjoyed that night, although it couldn’t come close to matching their own immortals of the 1961/62 season, who clinched their own solitary top league flag with a last day win at St Johnstone.
We’re unlikely to see either city side repeat those triumphs in a modern era dominated by money, but the memories will live on passed down through the generations of Arabs and Dees.
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