35 Years Later – Aberdeen win the 2025 Scottish Cup
’35 Years Later’ is the story of Aberdeen winning the 2025 Scottish Cup Final from my seat in the stands at Hampden.
Annihilated
The early summer sunshine was beaming down as I trudged grumpily through the streets of Dundee. As I made my way towards the supporters bus I had arrived on, a fellow Aberdeen fan appeared alongside me. I’ve no idea who he was but he could probably tell by my demeanour that I was a Dons fan. I looked up at him as he drew alongside me, he looked me in the eye and simply said “we are going to get fucking annihilated next week.”
In fairness to that stranger, he was not alone in that opinion. Aberdeen’s league season had just ended in defeat to Dundee United with a Scottish Cup final against Celtic to come. The game itself was the entire campaign in a microcosm. A great start, terrible middle part, and an uninspiring end. Now, we all know what happened a week later. I could pretend as I write this that I had seen it all coming. In reality, there was a not so small part of me that wished we did not have another game before the summer break. I had seen enough disappointment for one season.
1990
It had been thirty-five years since Aberdeen last won the Scottish Cup. I was a few weeks away from my tenth birthday when we lifted the cup in 1990. I can remember watching the penalty shoot-out on television with my Dad, my Mum had gone to the kitchen as she was too nervous to watch. In the thirty-five years that followed, Aberdeen only made it to the final on three occasions. The 1993 and 2017 final defeats I had watched on television. The only Scottish Cup final I had ever been to was in 2000.
Ant and Dec
My memories of the 2000 final are not great. That may be down to my subconscious not allowing me to access the painful recollection of the defeat. It is more likely that alcohol consumption had a lot to do with the fact I cannot remember much of the game. We had travelled down early on a supporters bus which had taken us to a social club within walking distance of Hampden. I distinctly remember being sat with a pint at about ten in the morning watching Ant and Dec on SM:TV via a portable television hanging from the pub ceiling. I have no real recollection of how we felt going into the game but I do remember everyone was positive about Cat Deeley being on the pub telly.
Twenty-five years later, I was back at another Scottish Cup final and luckily not as inebriated by kick-off as in 2000. That said, I was in Glasgow with a pint in my hand before ten-thirty in the morning. The atmosphere in the bowling club that we had commandeered for the big game build-up was brilliant. It felt like everyone had travelled with the attitude that we would probably lose the game but we would have a great day out to cushion the blow. That was certainly how I felt. Anyone who knows me will tell you that when it comes to the Dons, I am an eternal pessimist. We could be 4-0 up with a minute to go in a game and I would still expect it to go wrong.
Dream a little
It would have been a hard sell for any Aberdeen fan to convince the vast majority on their way to Hampden that we would return with the trophy. At the same time, I doubt there was a single Dons fan who had not allowed themselves to dream a little in the week leading up to the match. Those dreams seemed extremely unlikely to come true but a few alcoholic beverages as time ticked down to kick off probably raised those hopes ever so slightly.
My aforementioned pessimism meant that I arrived at my seat in the national stadium without the slightest bit of nervousness ahead of the game. ‘Hope for the best but expect the worst’ is normally how I approach big games. As the game got going the team were doing well, but my hopes were not raised any. In my head, the better the team played, the more agonising a defeat would feel. Once the game clock on the giant Hampden scoreboard hit the thirty-minute mark, I admit my optimism rose slightly. The longer we could stay at 0-0, the more chance we would have of causing an upset. Nine minutes later Celtic scored and that is why I am so pessimistic. Just as I thought ‘maybe’ it was taken away.
Then it happened
Into the second half and we were still only a goal behind. Did I see an equaliser coming? Nope. Then it happened. I would love to be able to properly articulate the feeling as Shayden Morris’ cross was diverted into the net by Celtic goalkeeper Kasper Schmeichel. It was not just the usual raucous celebration that would accompany a goal in a big match.
This was a concoction of joy. It included the disbelief of drawing level in a game we were supposed to lose. On flipside, it felt like first time that all 20,000 Aberdeen fans simultaneously gained the belief that, ‘we might actually win this.’ I would love to tell you what I did when the ball hit the net but I have absolutely no idea. What I can tell you, is that I have never been in a crowd that felt like that before. If only you could bottle that feeling.
‘Rope-a-dope’
Celtic seemed to have been shaken by the goal and for a minute, I thought we had them. We were about to pull off the old Muhammad Ali ‘rope-a-dope’ tactic. But we could not knock them out when their knees looked like buckling. Then the old pessimism struck and I thought to myself, ‘this would be cruel to lose this now.’ The equaliser had arrived with seven minutes remaining. They will score a late winner. We had all seen it before. But not this time as when their chance came, Dimitar Mitov came to the rescue. Extra time.
I spent the entire thirty minutes of extra time just waiting for them to score to be honest. At one point I thought to myself that it would have been better to lose 1-0 than to get that late equaliser and suffer defeat in extra time. I told you I was a pessimist when it came to these things! With every second that passed the nerves and tension grew until we reached stoppage time at the end of 120 minutes. This would be the ultimate cruelty to lose it now. But, then it ended. Penalties.
Penalties
Maybe in my head I was happier to accept a defeat on pens than by way of conceding a late goal. That might explain why I no longer felt as tense. The nerves had gone through the Hampden roof ever since the celebrations for the equaliser had subsided. For some reason, and I have the testimony of the person standing next to me to prove this, I had a feeling Mitov was going to save Calum McGregor’s opening penalty of the shoot-out.
Actually, I called it as soon as the Celtic captain walked to the spot. I did not celebrate the save though as the nerves returned instantly before Graeme Shinnie made his way to the spot. I could barely watch all four Dons pens, this is why my Mum stayed in the kitchen in 1990. As the men in red took their penalties I uttered ‘please, please, please’ under my breath repeatedly. I have no idea who I was pleading to. The football Gods, I guess. There were no nerves for the opposition penalties as I uttered ‘miss, miss, miss’ during their run-ups. I am glad there were no cameras on me at to capture that emotional turmoil.
After Ante Palaversa smashed home his spot-kick we were in about the best position possible in a penalty shoot-out. If they miss, we win. If they score, we still have a pen to win it. People often describe traumatic situations by saying that things seemed to go in slow motion. This cannot be true, but in my head, as Alistair Johnston placed the ball on the spot, everything went in slow-motion. My mind went back to the nine-year-old me watching at home in 1990, the twenty-year-old me trying to see through a drunken haze in 2000. All the awful cup defeats over the past thirty-five years. All the people who were around in 1990 that are no longer with us, the great players we have had who never even came close to winning this trophy in the last three-and-a-half decades. We were so close. ‘Miss, miss, miss.’
Adults in tears
I had no idea what I did in the aftermath of our equalising goal but I know exactly what happened as Dimitar Mitov saved Alistair Johnston’s penalty. The air went from my body and I crouched down with my head in my hands. I could already feel tears of relief running down my face as I moved to stand upright again. Glancing to my right where the folks I had shared a bus with were standing I expected to get some stick for my emotional response. What I saw were tears in almost every eye.
That earlier mix of disbelief and joy after the goal had returned. This time it had the added ingredient of knowing we had done it. Sheer joy, relief, and pride poured from the stands. I stood on my seat momentarily as my gaze returned to the pitch. The tears had stopped but the air of not quite believing what had just happened was prevalent. The following forty-five minutes or so was just magical, being there in-person to see Aberdeen lift the Scottish Cup was something I was starting to think might never happen.
The emotions
I am certain that I am not the only Aberdeen fan that watched the game back as soon as they got up the following morning. The emotions were bubbling away beneath the surface again as I watched it back, particularly the post-match interviews and seeing what it meant to the players. Also, that was the first time I realised there was a second of doubt in the winning penalty save celebrations, whilst VAR checked everything was above board with Mitov’s stop. I think if we were made to retake that penalty and we went on to lose the game, I would never have gone to a game of football again. Of course, I will go to a game again as soon as the new season starts. Whatever happens following Aberdeen in the future, I am not sure how May 24th 2025 made me feel will ever be topped.
You can relive the day on RedTV here – https://redtv.afc.co.uk/search?category=140000037&sort=newest