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UPFROnT
PaulKnotttellsthestoryoftheForeignOfficeXIwhoreunitedinPragueforonefinaltournament
HerMajesty’sDiplomaticService
FootballClubneverconformedto
stereotype.OldEtoniansunableto
detectthedifferencebetweenWest
HamandAstonVillawererare.
Theclubwaslargelya refugefor
working-classladsfromalloverthe
country,whowererecruitedbythe
ForeignOfficeina fitofegalitarianism
inthe1980sand’90s.
Formanyofuslivingfarfromhome
forthefirsttimeata youngage– in
mostcases,ourlateteens– theclub
becamea kindofsurrogatefamily,
albeitoneentailingthekindof
late-nightscrapesthatwouldearnan
actualfamilya fatfileatsocialservices.
Playingtogether,workingtogether,
socialisingtogetherandlivingtogether
invariouslow-rentsharedhovelsbuilt
bondsthathavelasteda lifetime.
Newrecruitswerealwaysessential
wheneachseasonthememberswould
invariablybedispatchedaroundthe
globeonvariousEmbassypostings.
Goodplayerswhohadstumbledinto
diplomacyarrivedsurprisinglyoften.
Gooddrinkers,charactersand
comedianswereevenmorecommon.
ColinCurrietickedseveralofthose
boxes.Inhisexuberantapproachtolife,PLAYInG THE DIPLOMATS
music and football, the Glasgow boy
was fiercely independent-minded.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, he was a loyal
Partick Thistle fan. Colin’s commitment
to supporting the Jags was matched
only by his bracing tackling technique.
Tragically, Colin died 20 years ago in
an accident in Bratislava. Ever since his
passing, International Football Club
Prague, the team for which Colin was
playing during his posting at the British
Embassy in the Czech Republic, have
organised the annual Colin Currie
Memorial Tournament in his honour.
The ‘Dip Service’ took part in one of
the first tournaments, although I use
the term ‘took part’ loosely. Off the
pitch, we were outstanding. The
emotion of the occasion, plus the
excitement of being back together
and a large dose of stupidity, sparked
prodigious alcohol consumption.
Preparation the day before the
tournament began with Staropramen
for breakfast and ended a few hours
before kick-off the following morning.
Well, for most people: one lad who had
come over from the UK as a friend of
a team member disappeared with a girl
he’d met early on the first evening and
was never seen again.Our enthusiastic tribute to one aspect
of Colin’s personality didn’t help us do
him justice on the pitch. One player had
to be substituted after throwing up by
the corner flag, discarding his boots in
a pitchside bin in disgust. Another spent
more time slumped under a cold shower
than on the field. Hazily memorable
mayhem though it was, our abject
effort left a lingering taste of regret.
This year brought a chance to rectify
matters. Many of the old gang made it
back to Prague from points as far and
wide as Philadelphia and Vietnam. The
surprise re-emergence of the lad who
had disappeared first time around
seemed like an omen. It turned out he
had never left Prague, having married
and had kids with the young lady he
met in the pub all those years ago.
Surely, far older and slightly wiser, we
could do better this time? The wisdom
certainly helped. While some of the
squad respected tradition by being in
the bars by mid-morning the day before
the tournament, the agreed midnight
curfew was scrupulously observed.
However, the age was less useful.
One player was injured in the warm-up,
another lasted just 15 minutes before
his missing knee cartilage took its toll.Having them as coaches was a handy
contribution. Our debut experiment in
passing the baton on to the next
generation, by recruiting young Euan
Vosper to do his dad Ali’s running for
him, was an even bigger boost.
Even so, by the fourth full-pitch
11-a-side game, those of us still able
to stand were moving like rusty robots.
And no amount of wisdom can enable
a bunch of 50-ish-year-olds to catch
teenagers enrolled on professional club
scholarship schemes.
But we were competitive. We won
one, drew one and lost two narrowly.
A marginally more mature form of fun,
off-field chaos was maintained. It felt
like the right balance in Colin’s memory.
And there was one other factor in
inspiring our improved performance.
In a magnificent gesture to recognise
their former supporter, Partick Thistle
presented us with their first-team kit
from last season to wear.
Few of us had played in a professional
club’s kit before and the connection to
Thistle made it special. On this occasion
more than on any other in our long
history, we felt the need to honour the
shirt we were wearing. I think we just
about managed it.