A message to you, Rudi.

Innes Thomson
Jun 12
4 min read

Rudi, My Scooter

Rudi is my scooter.

A Royal Alloy TG300s. A surprise gift from my partner, the beloved Kerry.

Where to start?

Soundtrack of Becoming

Growing up, my early musical tastes were… let's say, less than legendary. So much so that I won’t even name names. But by the late '70s into the '80s, things shifted. I moved loosely through Mod, Ska, Reggae, R&B, and then into an ever-widening palette. These days, I listen to what I like and give zero shits about genre. I like not giving a shit more and more.

One thing that never changed was clothes. My musical taste shaped my fashion — always trying to be a little different but never too conspicuous. If you know, you know.

Mod? The Who, The Kinks, The Jam.Ska? The Beat, Madness, The Specials, The Selecter, Bad Manners.Reggae? UB40, Bob Marley, Black Uhuru, Aswad — but mostly UB40, to the power of three.

The common thread (see what I did there?): polo shirts, straight-leg trousers, Sta-Prest, Fred Perry, cardigans, bombers. Timeless kit.

The Mod Who Never Was

I was a bit too young for the Mod Revival, but I always wanted in. Where I grew up, subcultures had teeth. If you were going to be something, you had to commit — or get chewed up. I longed for the fishtail parka, the Who or Jam logo on the back, the boating blazer layered underneath, Fred Perry collar poking out. I had one day — one — in Princes Street Gardens, sometime in '81 or '82, where I wore the dream. Borrowed, of course.

And yeah, I wanted the scooter. The full Quadrophenia. I didn’t quite have the nerve.

Except for a few spins on Andrew Butterworth’s Vespa PX, up and down the Royal High School drive, I never owned one though..

From Tynecastle to Oz

In the '80s, my time was mostly spent chasing Heart of Midlothian FC — my beloved Hearts. Never a scarf-waver, never a Casual, but somewhere in the mix. I kept my distance from the bother, though I did get ejected from a ground once for throwing a swing at a copper trying to toss me for standing on a seat.

My fanaticism ran deep. I watched the club rise and fall, mostly fall, in the '80s. The '90s brought a Cup win in ’98. Season ticket holder. Dad beside me often. My brother too.

My Dad was born on McLeod Street — the very street Tynecastle Park stands on. He followed Hearts rligiously from his time in the '40s through to his death in late 2013. After his cremation, I rang the club on a whim. They agreed to inter his ashes beneath the pitch. Now when I watch Hearts play on TV, I see where he is. 100 metres from his birthplace, forever home.

The Game of My Life

In May 2012, I flew 12,000 miles back to Scotland. Why? Because Hearts had just made it to the Scottish Cup Final. Against Hibs.

Let me explain.Hearts. Maroon and white. The Jam Tarts. The Jambos. The Boys in Maroon.Hibs. Green and white. The Wee Team. The Vermin. The team that makes us spew up.

The Edinburgh Derby — city rivalry, deep and bloody. Hearts hold more wins (146 to 86 in 330 matches), but we’d heard plenty about a 0:7 loss in the '70s. For decades. Like a stain on the soul.

But this? This was the Cup Final. And on 19 May 2012, we turned it around: 1:5.Rammed it right up their arses.

I had booked two return tickets — one for the next day, one for three weeks later. I stayed. We partied. I’ve never seen anything like it, and I doubt I will again. A 100+ year wait for another cup final derby. We made it count.

Enter Rudi

One of the stars of that final? Scorer of the 2nd and 5th goals?Sir Rudi Skacel.

A Czech midfielder who, back in 2005, came on loan from Marseille and scored 16 goals in 35 games. I barely noticed him then. But he became a cult hero, especially for his habit of scoring against Hibs. The man etched his name in Hearts folklore with that final performance.

Fast forward a few years.

Kerry bought me a scooter — my dream ride — a few days before my cancer diagnosis. We both knew it was going to be somewhere between shite and grim. But I’d wanted one for decades. There it was: maroon and ivory. Perfect.

I rode it out of the shop four days later.

His name?Rudi.

Why? Because A Message to You Rudy is a Specials track (yes, I know it’s spelt differently — that’s a fuck I don’t give). Because style matters. Because legend matters. Because that Cup Final mattered.

Wheels, Clobber, and Living Forever

I bought a MOD Parka — a 1965 M65, original and unissued. Worn with straight jeans, Fred Perry polos, Harringtons, football clobber. There’s paisley and hoods. There's me, again.

It’s not fast. But it’s style. And maybe, after everything, that’s enough.

I saw them live three times — huge arenas and a secret gig to 800 fans.

There’s a resurgence coming, I feel it.