My Beautiful Sunday: A Guest Post by Matthew Marr

Sunday was a strange day; I started it wanting two things, but only really caring about one.

The morning began with competing priorities. I had no ticket for the final, and, secondly, was close to getting the last programme I need to complete a collection.

As an avid collector of Celtic cup programmes, only one escapes me. The 1954 Scottish Cup Final versus Aberdeen is something I’ve chased for years.

Sunday was my latest chance to get this document. It’s something I’ve come close to doing across the years, but there was something about that day made me think this was the moment my search would conclude.

However, before that happened, other issues took priority. I had no ticket for the final, having failed in all three ballots. Not everyone can get a ticket, but I still hoped that somehow I’d be lucky.

It wasn’t a great start. Going to Hampden for about 12.30, there was already numerous people seeking tickets. Their numbers would only increase as the game approached. In short, I had no chance.

Yet still I tried. My love in life is attending Celtic games. Watching TV holds nothing of that same emotion; I’d sooner attend – even if they lose – than stay at home.

Still, reality and despair converged. There was no hope of finding entry to the ground. Perhaps it was time to give up, and think about my programme search.

And so it was decided. I walked away thinking today was to be a day that I’d get a ticket. Having had a great run (tickets for every final since 1991), it was hard to complain.

Yet, still hope remains. So I stayed at Hampden. And an improbable event took shape. On a day where no spare tickets looked like emerging – the numbers seeking them as evidence – soon, optimism arose.

A friend who runs a bus suggested a spare could indeed be found. A prolonged search proved this was the case. And so, Holy Grail-esque, in my hand sat the required entry document.

The match itself is, bizarrely, irrelevant to this tale. You already know the contrasting emotions which marked Sunday’s experiences. Maeda’s winning penalty ensured it was indeed a beautiful Sunday.

And then on the way home, I realised my thoughts had entirely escaped the much sought after programme. Of all bargain prices, it had sold for only £67! Aside from being a cheap price, it was a very Celtic-orientated cost.

Years of searching had been forgotten. The opportunity to finally complete a collection was missed. It would be easy to have big regrets. Easy, but absolutely not the case.

Sunday was brilliant. If offered the chance beforehand to get a ticket at the expense of losing the programme – and probably never completing the collection – there’s no doubt about my choice.

I’d have taken a Sunday ticket even if knowing we were going to leave Hampden without a trophy. And I’d have snapped off your hand for that ticket.

The chance to be at any Celtic match – win, lose or draw – is all that matters in football. That’s true today, tomorrow and forever in the future.

I’d still like that 1954 programme. But it matters nothing compared with the experience of actually seeing the Celts.

Matthew Marr is a Celtic fan and writer who’s first book The Bould Bhoys: Glory To Their Name, about the club’s first title, can be found here. He also runs a number of Celtic Walking Tours around Glasgow; you can find out more about them here. He can be found on social media at @hailhailhistory