|
 |
|
Earlier in the year, Jimmy C reported back on The Mid-season break in Florida , now updated with pictures. Here, Todd talks about the trip to Las Vegas for the '99 NARSA Convention
Bears and Gloating in Las Vegas
Sunday, November 29th, 1998 Guivarc'h and Albertz each score to seal the League Cup win against St. Johnstone. When did Guivarc'h start moving? Oh, well. Cup number one. Sunday, May 2nd, 1999 Rangers do the unthinkable. Win the League. At Parkhead. Shutting out Celtic, with two from McCann and a penalty shot from Albertz. Can we play the tape again? Cup number two. Sunday, May 29th, 1999 Wallace does the only thing needed, sealing a 1-0 victory at Hampden. No incidents in this game like the one on the 2nd. Guess the Celtic supporters ran out of pocket change; Cup number three. So, where do we go from here?
Las Vegas. Home of loose morals and even looser slots, if you believe the brochure from Caesar's Palace. Vegas is an all-inclusive resort where everything is à la carte. The Annual General Meeting for the North American Rangers Supporters Association was being held in Sin City. Who was I to argue? The benefits were many. This would afford Super Ali and me a vacation we've been long overdue for. We'd be able to meet current and former Rangers greats. Meet stranded Bluenoses from all around. Sounded like a decent deal. Besides, we had something to celebrate. The champagne was flowing and we had three cups to drink it from. Thursday, June 3rd, 1999 7:33am: SA and I board what appears to be the Bramalea Supporters Club flight. Everyone on the flight speaks in a brogue and lives in The Burbs. Get the nod from a few that I remember from some of the regular NARSA meetings. Keep hoping the pack of us will start singing and frighten the flight attendants into giving us more than one bag of peanuts and something other than runny scrambled eggs and soggy toast that we eat off of our lap. No such luck. 10:33am: The in-flight movie kicks in. "Shakespeare
in Love". Typically, half the plane runs for the headphones, the other half run for
the bar cart. 12:37pm: Locals are curious about all of us and don't quite understand: "So, what brings you to Las Vegas?" "We're here to meet the Rangers." "New York or Texas?" "Glasgow." "Oh. Where's that?" "Scotland." "Is that in Canada or something?" 1:14pm: Taking in the sights of Vegas. Loud. Bright. Garish. And that was just the cigarette waitress. Still haven't got into the casino proper yet. Ah, must be near that flashing sign reading "Redemption". Apparently it's used for cashing in your chips, not your sins. Funny. There's a bunch of confused guys in green and white hoops standing around it. 1:22pm: Taking deep breaths of the fresh oxygen provided by the casino, we stop for lunch. Still trying to show the local staff the new math: Fries + vinegar = lunch. 3:57pm: More and more blue shirts coming out of the woodwork. Realize I'm wearing a shirt from Vancouver #2 after the third couple asks me "So, son. Hae dee y'like th' west coast? At's awl damp, eh?" 6:57pm: Receive a call from El Prez. He's landed and is in the Flamingo Hilton. Due to last minute arrangements, his flight was somewhat less direct then SA's and mine. He tells me his 35-minute layover in Honolulu was just fine. EP invites SA and I out for a bit of a swally. Yeah, sure. Bevvy would be nice. Feeling a bit tired after the flight. Just gonna have a wee bit of a lie down. We'll meet you there. Friday June 4th
9:37am: Woke up after putting down the phone. Wonder
if EP is still waiting for us at the bar.
12:07pm: Yup. 2:03pm: Decide to do a bit of a tour of the surrounding casinos. Caesar's Palace has The Beach Boys performing. If you've never put on sunscreen, you will after seeing their promotional poster. 2:37pm: Now the Bears are coming out to play. The blue shirts are becoming much more visible. I'm sitting at some card tables talking with some fellow Bears from Canada who just got into town that morning. Apparently there have been some sightings of John Greig, Gord Durie and Ian Ferguson already. We'll be seeing them tonight at the reception. 4:02pm: I dropped another quarter into the slots and suddenly this hand comes down on my shoulder...a shoulder covered by my 1972 Cup Winners Cup jersey. "I believe this shirt belongs to me, son." I tell EP that he does the WORST John Greig impression I've ever heard. 8:23pm: Show up at the first reception swally with the players. Seems that the DJ doesn't own any records other than the one by Tina Turner (yes, THAT one). The music may be a bit rough, but the lads from Rangers Direct are here with quite a bit of merch. T-shirts. Video tapes of the nine-in-a-row year as well as the Brian Laudrup story. Alarm clocks that sing "Follow, Follow". Hmmmm. That'd a nice way to start the day. SA and I meet up with EP and connect with folks from the other supporters clubs. Folks from Orange County (the organizers), Texas, Detroit, Vancouver, they're all there. Also get to meet some folks who have traveled from Great Britain to take part. Photo ops abound as the celebs enter the hall: Gord Durie: Jukebox was in the house. I've always enjoyed watching Durie perform. A great player and a great Ranger, I always felt that Durie's problem was the company that we kept. I've always thought that Gord could fill a spot in the XI at any time. Unfortunately, there seem to be more and more names that can be placed before his for a spot on the first team. If nothing else, Gord helped me introduce others to Rangers through his association with the Scottish national team. Not many over here have heard of the Glasgow Rangers (yet), but the Scottish national side definitely gained some exposure from France '98. At least his association with the Celtic Summertime Reserve Team made those that saw his photo realize that he had a job outside of watching own goals being scored during international tournaments.
|
