Unintended Consequences? by Estadio<\/b><\/p>\n
\u00a0<\/i><\/p>\n
November 1951 \u2013 Whistleberry Crescent, Whitehill, Hamilton<\/b><\/p>\n
The eyes had it; so often romantically clich\u00e9d as \u2018the windows to the soul, they also projected the more sinister darkness \u00a0of an unfeeling amoral heart!<\/i><\/p>\n
With a powdering of an early ground frost, the black curtain of the sky overhead was dotted with brilliant stars and a silver moon bright enough to cast shadows. The eyes squinted and peered through the glass, cleared by a cloudy breath and the wipe of a glove.<\/i><\/p>\n
The reflection of his heart bounced off the dark interior behind the wooden-framed window serving only to accentuate a mixture of desperation and lost self-respect. Selfish inhumanity had won out either through the necessity for food and survival, or simply a cold ruthlessness to have what was not his. This time however the fangs of fate readied their bite and venom.<\/i><\/p>\n
His antennae quivered and tuned in for signs that discovery was imminent, his hearing and innumerable other senses filtering out the sounds of the rats scurrying at the nearby bins. He was comfortable with rats; like him they lived on the unattended or discarded possessions of society; rats were his pals; but no rat in deed or cause ever set in train such a chain reaction simply by the act of laying a muffling sheet across the pane and with one dig from his bent arm, sending the glass into a thousand fragments across the scrub-faded-linoleum kitchen floor.<\/i><\/p>\n
He waited for the sound of running steps or the panic of desperately opened doors. Nothing! <\/i><\/p>\n
His information had been spot on; the house was empty at least for the night.<\/i><\/p>\n
He cast a hooked wire through the broken frame and reached for the key conveniently hung by the string looped around the door knob. <\/i><\/p>\n
He was in; he waited a moment in the gloom and the silence, his breathing shallow and his pulse on the precipice of silence. <\/i><\/p>\n
Still nothing; Just the contempt of the disapproving kitchen range, bread bin and hanging utensils! Half an hour and he would be gone, half an hour and no-one would be any wiser of who had been there, who had stripped the place of the meagre display of mementos and personal keepsakes. Half an hour and he could disappear back into the anonymity of the shadows, sell off his plunder, and move on to his next prey. Another random burglary, another unfortunate victim, another statistic. The world would keep turning; a one day wonder for the neighbours and life would go on undisturbed and uncaring.<\/i><\/p>\n
Misjudgements rarely come so wrong.<\/i><\/p>\n
Unfamiliar with the neighbourhood, unaware of his anonymous victim; oblivious of the butterfly effect, and ignorant on a scale that would have seen Kyle Lafferty categorised as \u2018astute\u2019, that half hour changed world football forever. As the glass had fragmented and spread across the floor it triggered \u00a0a transformation of an existence of ups, downs and banal into one where the stars would look up in awe, where the fabric of Scottish football was re-woven; where the lives of Celtic Supporters, Rangers fans, ultimately every football follower in the country and wider society in general would experience a seismic shift that would see the scales of justice rebalanced as the hoi polloi\u2019s \u00a0complacent obesity\u00a0 found more than it\u2019s match.<\/i><\/p>\n
***********************<\/i><\/p>\n
Jimmy heard about the break-in the following day from a copper standing sentry at the door.<\/i><\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m just waiting on the occupiers returning and then I\u2019ll be off. Just another pointless robbery. We\u2019ll get nowhere as usual and in a few days it will be forgotten, unimportant and pointless.\u201d<\/i><\/p>\n
\u201cNot if I have my way\u201d thought Jimmy. He wandered over to the big red phone box, picked up the big black handset, and waited for the operator. The operator\u2019s response, delivered in that nasally self important tone of the eternally shelf-ridden frigid spinster informed Jimmy that he had indeed and unsurprisingly got through to \u2018the operator!<\/i><\/p>\n
\u201cOperator here\u201d the disembodied adenoidal bored old-maiden informed Jimmy.<\/i><\/p>\n
\u00a0\u201cGet me this number please…….\u201dJimmy responded.<\/i><\/p>\n
\u201cYour call is connected. Please insert fourpence and press button A. If there is a problem with the call you can press Button B to return your money. However\u201d she scolded \u201c If the connection is successful any misuse of button B will trigger an alert to me and the call will be immediately disconnected and button \u2018B\u2019 operation disabled!\u201d<\/i><\/p>\n
\u201cJobsworths, the lot of youse\u201d thought Jimmy to himself but this was important so he bit his lip and tried to picture the operator in suspenders. The mental image disturbed him so he put in his fourpence!<\/i><\/p>\n
The faraway ring was answered almost immediately.<\/i><\/p>\n
\u201cHello, Jack Goldsborough here…..\u201d <\/i><\/p>\n
Jimmy finished his call, pressed Button B and for the first time ever he got tuppence back.<\/i><\/p>\n
\u201c You can stick yer warning buzzer up yer erse\u201d\u00a0 he laughed\u00a0 \u201cAn omen indeed! An omen indeed\u2019<\/i><\/p>\n
There was new spring in his step.<\/i><\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 * * * * * * * * * <\/i><\/p>\n
December 1951 \u2013 Celtic Park Glasgow<\/b><\/p>\n
Jimmy smiled a little as he knocked on the Chairman\u2019s door. He thought of waiting in deference for a moment or two for the summons to enter,\u00a0 after all the occupant had a multitude of heavy matters on his mind and it was only fair to allow him to come to a natural break before dealing with his proposal. <\/i><\/p>\n
\u201cAye that\u2019ll be shining bright\u201d thought Jimmy.<\/i><\/p>\n
Inside the sanctum the chairman was leaning back in his chair, gently rocking, his eyes almost closed but even in moments of self-contemplation his subconscious kept a \u00a0watch on the big Abernethy decorated chocolate digestive tin on the desk in front of him. <\/i><\/p>\n
\u201cWas it big enough?\u201d he kept asking himself as he pondered the numbers who had come through his very own gate at the last home game. For a brief moment he bridled as he recalled the rumour that wee Tommy on the gate was at it and had been taking a skin on the side to allow men and even women <\/b>to squeeze through on one click of the turnstile. <\/i><\/p>\n
His cheeks flushed \u201cI\u2019ll put a stop to that soon enough. Dishonesty in the ranks just won\u2019t be tolerated \u2013 my God this is Celtic \u2013 National service should be compulsory even for sixty year old ne\u2019er do wells like Tommy!\u201d but then his eyes would drift back to the stash of cash in his very own tin and his hard heart would temporarily almost break into a beat.<\/i><\/p>\n
He hadn\u2019t heard the first or second chap on the door, but he could hardly avoid the sudden breaching of his sanctum as Jimmy Gribben burst into the room.<\/i><\/p>\n
\u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d he blustered!<\/i><\/p>\n
He was at sixes, sevens and nines now as his natural urge was to upbraid the interloper but his survival instincts kicked in and he battered \u00a0the rarely used lid back on the biscuit tin and hurriedly secreted it back in the hole in the wall behind the statue of \u2018Our Lady of the Poor\u2019.<\/i><\/p>\n
\u201cSorry sir. I did knock twice and not hearing any voices I was worried in case perhaps you might be poorly\u201d. Jimmy smiled to himself as his eyes followed the trail of disturbed flim flam as the box disappeared back to the protection of the shrine.<\/i><\/p>\n
\u201cLook Mr Kelly, it won\u2019t cost us much and he will give us good back-up; you never know he might do us a turn if the pitches get any worse. I reckon we can get him for \u00a31500.\u201d<\/i><\/p>\n
The chairman sat back in his throne and tapped out a tune on his immaculate and unused blotting pad.<\/i><\/p>\n
\u201cGet him for \u00a31200. Not a penny more. Oh and while yer at it, see all they jam jars we collected from the jungle, they are down at the front door. Take them back tae the shops and get the deposits back; and don\u2019t forget I\u2019ve counted them!\u201d<\/i><\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll do my best Mr Kelly.\u201d<\/i><\/p>\n
He stepped out of the office, and just out of earshot he whispered \u201cSod yer jam jars ya auld skinflint, this is the start of a new era.\u201d<\/i><\/p>\n
He felt a wee shiver of premonition. He had already agreed with Jack Goldsborough at Llanelli a fee of \u00a31200. <\/i><\/p>\n
He smiled again as he thought ……..\u201cand all because some eejit had broken into that house,\u00a0 Jock Stein was on his way to Celtic\u201d<\/i><\/p>\n
\u201cI hope that daft tea-leaf is a died- in-the-wool pavement pirate\u201d\u00a0\u00a0 Jimmy allowed a sparkle to light up his mind\u2019s eye. <\/i><\/p>\n
\u201cUnintended consequences indeed!\u201d this time without the question mark! \u201c Oh how little do they know…..\u201d.<\/i><\/p>\n
\u00a0<\/i><\/p>\n
* * * * * *<\/i><\/p>\n
As the thousand shards of broken glass strafed the kitchen floor, the gods woke up. <\/i><\/p>\n
Butterflies were sent to flap their wings, dominoes were stood on end, a finger of Zeus, Allah, Jehova or whoever your deity of choice is poised threateningly on the first……. \u201cThere\u2019s nothing unintended about these consequences\u2019 he whispered to himself and deliberately cowped over \u00a0the \u2018double six\u2019!<\/i><\/p>\n
* * * * * *<\/i><\/p>\n
May 25th<\/sup> 1967 Lisbon<\/i><\/p>\n Celtic Champions of Europe.<\/b><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/b><\/p>\n February 14th<\/sup> 2012<\/i><\/p>\n Rangers football club and all its evil <\/b><\/p>\n works plunge into administration<\/b><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/b><\/p>\n Halloween 2012<\/i><\/p>\n Rangers football club melted down, <\/b><\/p>\n liquidated, liquidised and <\/b><\/p>\n despatched to oblivion never to return.<\/b><\/p>\n Their work done for the moment, the Gods took a wee rest!<\/i><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/b><\/p>\n Hail Hail<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Estadio<\/p>\n <\/p>\n ********************************************************<\/p>\n Do you fancy writing some Celtic Fiction?, \u00a0please send your pieces to etims.contact@googlemail.com<\/strong><\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Unintended Consequences? by Estadio \u00a0 November 1951 \u2013 Whistleberry Crescent, Whitehill, Hamilton The eyes had it; so often romantically clich\u00e9d as \u2018the windows to the…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":1950,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[],"tags":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/etims.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/01\/7715522-illustration-of-a-burglar-holding-a-flashlight.jpg","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p2J7If-vr","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/etims.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1949"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/etims.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/etims.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/etims.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/etims.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1949"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/etims.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1949\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1952,"href":"https:\/\/etims.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1949\/revisions\/1952"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/etims.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/1950"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/etims.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1949"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/etims.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1949"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/etims.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1949"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}