UEFA Cup Final Wednesday 21st May 2003

Porto 3

Celtic 2

1:0 Derlei (45)
1:1 Larsson (47)
2:1 Alenichev (54)
2:2 Larsson (57)
3:2 Derlei (115)

Att: 52,972

ref: Lubos Michel (Slovakia)

Celtic: Douglas; Valgaeren (Laursen 65), Balde, Mjallby; Agathe, Lambert (McNamara 76), Lennon, Petrov (Maloney 115), Thompson; Sutton, Larsson

Season 2003 reached its Zenith as over 100,000 marched with O'Neill to Seville for the biggest Fiesta European football has ever seen. A staggering 1% of all the World's air passengers flew into Andalucia on the day, as the Great Green Tribe descended for the party. Even the Hacks held back their usual bile describing Celtic as a 'social phenomenon , not just a football team', as travelling Hoops flooded in from six continents to celebrate in the sun. In a testament to their character and in a damning indictment of the Orcs' infamous battle in Barcelona, there was not one arrest on the day.

Such was the number of fans that Seville seemed bereft of Spaniards, let alone Portuguese. Only shouts of 'Verdi Blanco!' and the 40oC heat reminded you that this wasn't the Gallowgate. By 6pm the Green and White tide washed its way out to the stadium and raised a din fit to bring down the walls of Jericho.

The sound of 35,000 singing the Fields of Athenry was awesome, reaching a crescendo as the team came out.

If Porto came into this game as heavy favourites, they soon knew they were going to get a game of it. Despite the Portuguese having the lion's share of chances and possession in the first half, with Deco running the midfield, Celtic contained them well. Agathe looked threatening on the counter, but delivered poorly, and Larsson come close with a free kick. But the absence of Hartson was being keenly felt as Celtic appeared to lack a physical edge up-front during the first 45, though judging by the weak performance by the referee, who was giving every 50:50 to Porto, it may have been a blessing.

With the 45 minutes gone and well into injury time, the Portuguese struck. Deco, who had been running the midfield, slipped past Bobo and Mjallby, delivering a peach to Alenichev. Rab D parried only for the ball to evade Balde and fall to Derlei to put Porto one up.

As the players left the park for half time the conning and weak refereeing came to a head as Thommo reacted to the antics of the Porto players and there was an outbreak of 'Handbags at Dawn' for a few seconds. Despite the setback of going in a goal down, the OFM team-talk resulted in a resurgent Celtic emerging for an epic second 45.

In the words of F. Scott Fitzgerald, 'Show me a hero, and I will write you a tragedy.' This was to be the Larsson show. Within a minute Henke had scored his 200th goal for Celtic. Agathe eventually got in a good cross which the Swede looped across Baia and into history. The stadium erupted with a deafening cacophony and the Portuguese looked stunned. For many of the Hoops on the terracing the result was a rush of blood to the head that had bodies littered everywhere in an orgy of joy.

Unfortunately it didn't last too long. In the 57th minute Alenichev found room when Valgaeren dived in and missed a tackle. It freed the Porto player to slip the ball past Rab D for number two. Judging by their protracted celebrations Porto thought they had won it.

They hadn't counted on Larsson. Celtic simply rolled up the sleeves and began an aerial assault on a nervous Porto box. Just after the hour mark, a corner from Thompson found Henke in a space he had contrived from nowhere and he powered his header past Baia for a second equaliser.

The Hoops were now in control and the Portuguese were visibly rocking. The 90 minutes finished level, though pathetic line decisions robbed Larsson of a run on the keeper on a number of occasions.

Extra time was a tragedy. Bobo was carded for a second time and sent off. The tide changed and Porto were the team resurgent. The introduction of Maloney for Petrov, with an obviously tiring Sutton dropping to modified, almost paid dividends, as twice Maloney delivered crosses for Larsson only for Nuno Valente to intercept in the six yard box.

The winner for Porto was a catalogue of might have beens. Rab D failed to hold from a Derlei shot and the ball spun past Mjallby and Laursen - who had it covered but for the deflection off a despairing Douglas - into the net.

The Cup was lost. Like many, I left the stadium, head held high and bursting with pride at the efforts of the players. We had dined at the top table -contenders for a European trophy and did not lose over ninety minutes. The fans were impeccable and incomparable. I am just glad I was there.

For me two quotes sum it all up: 'Far better is it to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure... than to rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy much nor suffer much, because they live in a gray twilight that knows not victory nor defeat.' ~Theodore Roosevelt

Ever tried? Ever failed? No matter. Try Again. Fail again. Fail better. ~Samuel Beckett