Every so often, on the discussion lhist, the debate will sink to who's the best Celtic supporter, who the Real Tims are, etc. This is a wee parable Alan Clarke (the lhist administrater) posted in response. Lovely stuff.

In the light of some of the traffic of recent days - I still have over
300 of last night's posts to have a look at - I was drawn to some
parallels between supporting Celtic and my Grannie's Apple Pie.

All my family and quite a number of my friends like the apple pie we
make.

I call it "Grannie's Apple Pie" because that's where I first had it. 
She used to make an apple pie for dinner on Saturday before we'd head
off to the game with Grandad.  But it had likely been in her family's
handed-down list of recipes for a few generations - it was probably
*her* Grannie's Apple Pie.  Nevertheless, I always called it Grannie's
Apple Pie and it was the best.  Nothing ever came close for me. 
Whenever I make it and eat it, I always remember Saturday mornings when
I'd have played football for the school, then Saturday dinner with
Grannie and Grandad, and then walking up North Street to the ground with
Grandad and lots of other supporters.

My brother likes Grannie's Apple Pie as well, but he didn't get to stay
over there on Saturdays like I did.  He was there on Thusday nights and
he had the pie for tea then.  We didn't have a telly at home, but
Grannie and Grandad did.  So he'd have tea, and then be allowed to sit
down after in front of the telly with the Apple Pie as he watched
Batman.  He says it's the best Apple Pie and he always goes "Pow! Zock!
Kersplassshhh!" when he gets a piece served up.

My missus likes Grannie's Apple Pie as well, but she'd never met my
Grannie, she's not even seen North Street, and she's never seen a
football game in a cold place.  The reason she likes it is because a
long time ago, when we were first going out, her mother didn't much like
me, but the pie changed things.

Her mother thought I was a bit of a no-hoper.  But one day I brought
along one of Grannie's Apple Pies that I'd made at home and gave it to
her mother.  She thought that was a nice touch, and that maybe I could
be good enough for her daughter.  She started to take a bit of a shine
to me after that, and the reason my missus likes Grannie's Apple Pie is
because it was an important milestone for us getting together.  She
always gives me a wink when we sit down to eat it after having a look
around the kids and the grand-kids at the table.

Our kids also like Grannie's Apple Pie, but they'd never met her either.
Grannie died before they were born.  They've only seen her in the two
photos that we have of Grannie.  My daughter reckons the crust is just
the best crust on any pie, anywhere, it's buttery, and crisp, and light,
and it just melts in your mouth she says.  My son reckons it's the
combination of the cinnamon and the cloves in with the apples that makes
it the best.

We've got two grand-kids and they also like Grannie's Apple Pie.  One
says she likes it because whenever we eat one, she knows there's going
to be all sorts of nice stories told around the table, and it reminds
her of the minutes before story-time at school when the teacher says
she's going to read a story and all the class gets excited.  The other
one reckons it's the cream that does it.  He says that if you are clever
enough, you can have some warm pie and some cold cream on the spoon at
the same time and put both the warm and the cool in your mouth at once. 
He's only four, so I'm sure there'll be other reasons develop over time.

Sometimes we have a neighbour over when we've made Grannie's Apple Pie. 
A couple of years ago her old bloke carked it, and a short time later,
my missus went over with a Grannie's Apple Pie to give to her to share
and they had a good old talk about things as they ate it.  My missus and
her are dead-set friends now and my neighbour always remembers those
moments, and the fine times with her old bloke, when she has some of the
Apple Pie.

So we all reckon Grannie's Apple Pie is the best.  We each have
different reasons for reckoning that.  Not once have I said to my
grandkids that they can't like it as much as I like it because they
never had it on Saturday dinner just before going off up North Street. 
My brother doesn't tell me that I don't like it as much as he does
because I don't see the Penguin, Riddle Man, and the Batmobile when I
eat it.  My crust-loving kid has never told her brother that she likes
it more than he does because he likes the apple bit and she likes the
crust bit, and it's the crust you should concentrate on when you're
appreciating a pie.

My grandaughter doesn't tell me that I can't like it as much as she does
because it doesn't remind me of story-time at school, and my neighbour
doesn't tell me that she likes it more than me because I don't think of
the good times she had with her old bloke, but she does.

Come to think of it, I never asked Grannie why she liked it - or
Grandad.  Chances are, they'd have their own - completely different -
reasons.  I bet they never thought to say that their like of it counted
for more than mine, and that because I didn't like it in the way that
they did, I obviously don't like it at all.

Good thing none of us does that.  We're just grateful that we've found
something we all really like and has become important to us all, and
which brings us closer together.  It'd never cross our minds to
downgrade one-another's like for Grannie's Apple Pie just because we
don't all have exactly the same reason to reckon it's the best.



Alan Clark
Melbourne
Oz