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Your best European stories!


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Ahead of tomorrow's Gersnet podcast, we're wanting to hear your favourite European stories to feature on the show!

 

Whether them be funny, sad, good or bad; let us know on here and @Gizmo231 will give them a mention tomorrow night, live on YouTube at 9.30pm as always!

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I have lots of brilliant memories of European football nights.  Dynamo Kiev, Marseille, Leeds United are all games I'll never forget.  However there's one game that always jumps to mind when anyone's talks about European football and it was in the early nineties.  My dad, brother and I were heading off to the match at Ibrox.  I remember it being a wet and windy night, but I can't be sure of that.  It certainly was quite miserable anyway because the Rangers team was plagued by injury going into this match against Bruges.  I do remember that my gran had baked scones for us all and I put them in my pocket, knowing that on such a cold night they'd be welcomed with a cup of tea or bovril at some stage.

 

The game was a torrid affair and if I remember correctly we scored first, but this was then followed by us being denied a stonewall penalty, them scoring, and then Hateley being sent off.  It wasn't looking good at that point.  Then at around the 70th minute Scott try-hard-but-no-skill Nisbett threw his foot at a loose ball which headed towards their penalty area.  All 3 of us remarked almost in unison at how much spin was on the ball.  My brother then said "if the goalie doesn't catch that it could spin in".  Of course, as we know now the goalie didn't catch it and it didn't spin in to the goal.  Ibrox erupted and as has happened many times before there were bodies flying everywhere in celebration.  My dad ended up four rows down and had to be helped back to his seat which was funny.  What a celebration it was.  In all the excitement I had forgotten about the scones but figured this was a good time to then have them.  I handed one to my dad on my left and to my brother on the right.  They were delicious but the sweetest taste that night was of victory.  What sticks in my mind though was at the end of the game we stood up to move along our row to get out and I realised the guy next to me wasn't my brother (who I later saw standing about 6 rows down).  He disappeared though because I could say anything.  About a week later we were playing Dundee at home and I got a tap on the shoulder.  I turned around and this bear gave me a scone his son had made at school.  I just remember him saying "no scone can ever taste as good as the one we had that night big Nizzy scored".  That was 26 years ago and every scone I've had since makes me think of that goal.  And he was right .... they don't taste the same without a Nizzy goal to go along with it.

 

I don't imagine this is what you were looking for in your OP, but I thought I'd share it anyway.

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