The door slams shut, and the bus jolts hastily into life. A collective chorus of songs breaks out along the back seats. I breathe out slowly, a mix of excitement, nerves and anticipation for the day ahead. My husband's hand momentarily grasps mine, and I know we think the same thing. I hope we win.
I stare out the window and watch as the lush green fields of the countryside merge with the greyness of the motorway and the addition of towering buildings. We are getting closer to Glasgow. The traffic is getting slower, and the temperature on the bus is rising. I gulp some water. It is a scorcher today. I hope it doesn't get much hotter!
I quietly hum the song famously associated with the football team I love. In two hours, I imagine the sea of scarves held high and the deafening sound of passion echoing around the stadium as the choir of fans sings the song. I close my eyes and think of this moment. I hope I don't cry.
The bus feels like an oven now, stifling with the heat of the May sun beaming in through the windows. The smell of the warmed woven seats and supporters swirls around heavily. The singing intensifies as we near the stadium, moving slowly through the other cars and buses eager to deliver every fan safely to their paradise. I imagine the queues of people keen to take their seats. I hope my ticket works at the turnstile.
As the bus doors open with a hiss, I briefly enjoy the fresh air before stepping cautiously down the steps and being engulfed by the blazing hot sun. I walk side by side with my husband through the sea of people. It's a display of shorts, scarves, shirts and sunglasses. Stopping momentarily to rummage in my bag for sun cream, I hurriedly spray my warm, freckled skin. I hope I don't get sunburned today.
The atmosphere is buzzing. The smell of the food trucks wafting freshly grilled aromas around the outside of the stadium is enticing. But I can't eat; I'm too nervous for the game. People embrace each other and chat about their predictions for the scoreline. Listening to the conversations around me gives me the overwhelming sense that hope is abundant today. I really, really hope we win.
Suddenly, there is an ever-louder sound of clapping and cheers approaching the front of the building. I look over, past the statue of a former manager and see the beaming face of a true great, the famous King of Kings. He waves and smiles at the adoring crowd before disappearing through the stadium doors. I hope our players can recreate some of his greatness today.
Now it's time to go to the turnstiles and join the mass of other excited supporters in going to our seats. Maybe they've never been here before, maybe it's their first time at this world-famous fixture, or perhaps they are having a rare couple of hours away from the children like we are. Every seat has a different story, and I hope every seat is filled.
I am in through the turnstiles, with the metal clang and the cogs clicking. Now, it's time to take each stone step to the stands. My heart rate is increasing and a mixture of exertion and excitement collides. And with every step, I hope I'm nearly at the top.
The pitch is basking happily in the spring sunshine when I emerge. Cut, watered and tended to with love and affection, it looks glorious with the sun beating down on each green blade. The sound of the drums from one section of the stadium booms around the crowd, a battle cry for the masses to unite in song and support. I hope we can be the team's 12th person today.
The players emerge from the tunnel, and the crowds cheer and clap. The sound is almost deafening. I see the supporters' smiles as the midday sun warms this shared space. We all share the same hope.
As the players huddle, I watch scarves proudly lift in the air. The stadium sound system offers up our club's famous anthem. The sight and the sound are a spectacle, and I feel overwhelmed to be a part of this moment. I know the lump in my throat will give in to the tears; this is the song I've listened to watching football with my dad. It is the anthem that has been part of many special days I've spent with my husband watching a team we both love. It's the song I've sung to my children as they drift off to sleep.
I feel a comforting arm around my waist as an emotional teardrop falls on to my cheek. And at this moment, with hope in my heart, I know I will never walk alone.