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G'day sports fans.
"Have you ever been to Australia, Tony?
"No."
"Would you like to go?"
"Yes."
"Sold!"
And so it came to pass that on the morning of Tuesday November 15 2022, the EK Thunder was heading Down Under. Or should that be EK Blunder? If the cap fits and all that jazz.
The purpose of my trip was to cover the Leather Belts, The Marjorie Proops, The Fuzzy Felts… perm any one from three. (That's the Celts to the uninitiated in rhyming slang.)
Ange Postecoglou was returning to Australia. If you like, it was being billed as his Homecoming Tour or, officially, the Sydney Super Cup. The Hoops would be taking part in the tournament against local side Sydney FC and English Premier League club Everton and I was going to be there to cover it for The Celtic Way.
Wow! I felt blessed, honoured, humbled and privileged. I am not going to say that this would also be a triumph for man over adversity and technology, because I would be doubling up as Karl Pilkington's stuntman (aka An Idiot Abroad).
A trilogy of flights was involved before I would be able to reach my final destination a day-and-a-half later - Glasgow to Frankfurt, Frankfurt to Seoul, Seoul to Sydney.
As trilogies go, I'm a Godfather man. Always have been and I always will be. This offer was indeed a great one – and it wasn’t refused either. I didn't want to understand the ins and outs.
Ask any follower of the green and white and they'll tell you they are already soul men. That was Celtic Seoul for me in this case.
Postecoglou is a soul man too. He has been infused with the Celtic Soul now and become a hero to the hordes that follow this club all over the world. The Aussie has dug a deep-rooted trench within the faithful's hearts and minds.
This wasn't so much a glamour mid-season tour as it was being billed. It was beginning to take on pilgrimage status for some, including yours truly. I'd never been to the other side of the world before. It was all very exciting. Yes, even 50-year-old nearly-grown men still get excited when it comes to talking, watching and writing about their football team.
"Can you do some Tik Tok videos while you're at it, Tony?" That was the next question.
Now that was an offer I couldn't understand or refuse but I was only too willing to give it a bash. There's a lot to be said about getting up out of your scratcher at 3am in the morning to catch the red-eye from Glasgow to Frankfurt. How could I not be in a good mood? I was heading Down Under and I couldn't give a Castlemaine XXXX who knew about it by this point.
The first TikTok video got me off to a flyer – if you’ll pardon the pun – due mainly to me uttering the phrase "I'm a Celtic Way Writer... Get Me Out Of Here" in the fashion of Ant and Dec. It seemed to go down very well with the Celtic Way public.
Frankfurt is famous for, well, frankfurters. Naturally. So I did what any self-respecting (or self-loathing) person would do and let the Celtic Way TikTok jury decide if I should munch a hot dog from the stands at the airport. It felt like the right thing to do.
To hot dog or not to hot dog? That was the question. The public duly gets what the public wants so by 1pm, I had succumbed and a big roll ‘n’ frankfurter was consumed.
It was all stomach fodder for part deux of the journey which would involve me sitting on an aircraft for 11-and-a-half hours. Eleven-and-a-half hours? No danger.
Still, I was more than comforted by the Premium Economy class Lufthansa-style. An aisle seat, loads of legroom, a touch screen TV that played music, films, sport – you name it. There was also a complimentary pair of slippers, a blanket and a pillow for additional comfort. What's not to like about this Lufthansa Economy class malarkey?
"A glass of fresh orange sir?"
"Don't mind if I do... Danke Schoen."
At least my German was certainly improving. There's always a silver lining when you are soaring high above the clouds... always.
Do we have to get off the plane in Seoul? I had a 10-hour stopover in South Korea. I felt a bit like Tom Hanks's character in the 2004 film The Terminal. I hadn't been denied entry into the country, just denied entry to other parts of the airport. I still didn't have a boarding pass for the third leg of my trip. It was causing undue and unnecessary stress but I'm sure it would all get sorted in the fullness of time. I had plenty of that on my hands.
Despite not being able to leave the airport, I was still left very impressed by the local culture because when I arrived a girl was playing some Korean music which was clearly intended for me in the Seoul Airport transfer concourse.
I was sure it was some sort of serenade but maybe they just wanted to give me a glorious send-off to Sydney – or to make sure that I never darkened their doorstep again. It was probably the latter but I was convinced that my showing up in Seoul had merited the lovely musical interlude.
The hits just kept on coming for your humble traveller, dear readers. Rumour has it that on the last leg of my journey from Seoul to Sydney, I'll be travelling first-class. If the Seoul to Sydney flight is anything like the Frankfurt to Seoul experience then as a Scotsman it is well and truly apt to say these words. First class to Sydney? Now that would be, er, Devine!
You can't beat a fair dinkum joke to finish the diary on day one. I'm sure Postecoglou would most definitely approve. Now I am away to see if can negotiate a shuttle train that transfers me to another part of Seoul airport without getting lost in the process.
Next stop, Sydney. You little ripper! as the locals say around those parts.
This piece is an extract from today’s Celtic Digest newsletter, which is emailed out every weekday evening with a round-up of the day's top stories and exclusive analysis from The Celtic Way team.
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