The Queen’s Park Athletics Festival is in full flow. Seven men line up beside me at the start line. We stare down one hundred yards of grass, with the finish signified by a long tape. We use a tape to mark the top of the goal, but this time we want to crash through it, not under it.
The McNeil brothers are once again within my heat. This time I have James Weir, or J.B. as he is known, for support.
“I have this.”, said J.B. confidently, who is also known as the ‘Prince of Dribblers’, and he is the hot favourite.
Archibald Rae fires the gun, and we burst forward. After thirty yards, J.B. is in the lead, and Moses McNeil runs at full tilt beside me. Looking at your opponents when dribbling at speed is not sensible, and I lose control. Our footballs clash, sending Moses’ football backwards and my one to the side. Moses’ stops and shouts into the sky.
J.B. wins by a clear margin and straight through into the final, which he later wins in style.
At the end of the evening, I find Moses, “A great start to the festival?”
“Next time will be different.”, said Moses defiantly, and he walked away to find his Rangers’ brethren.
I chuckle at this new beautiful rivalry.