The “shi-shi” chant of Scottish supporters is relatively new and started
as a result of some hardcore supporters getting excited about appearing
on the stadium’s jumbotron. This particular group of fans, when
noticing someone from their group being shown on the screen would try to
quickly alert him so that he could also see. Unfortunately by the time
they looked around and spotted him and informed him it would normally be
too late and the screen would be showing the game again. So in an
effort to receive immediate and full attention of all members of their
group, they decided that every time one of them appeared on the screen
to chant “shi-shi”, an inside code for them all to look at the screen.
In one of the games following this particular arrangement as chance had
it their were numerous shots of them, each time prompting them to chant
“shi-shi” in unison. Fans sitting around them, either as a way of
ridiculing them or simply for amusements purposes, joined in and would
also chant “shi-shi”, whether or not any of the fans were being shown on
the screen. This gradually spread out to the whole stadium as most fans
simply assumed this was a way of cheering on the Scottish national
team. It is thus that today throughout Scotland’s games, the “shi-shi”
chant can be heard repeatedly and for long stretches of the game and has
developed into an irreplaceable bit of Scottish soccer fan culture.
"My parents, brother, and I left Iran in 1980, shortly after the revolution. After a brief stay in Italy, we packed all our belongings once again and headed west to the exotic and the unknown: Vancouver. We had recently been accepted as landed immigrants, meaning Canada graciously opened its doors and we gratefully accepted; we arrived at Vancouver International Airport on my 10th birthday, three suitcases and one sewing machine in tow. After respectful but intense questioning at immigration, we were dropped off at a hotel on Robson Street, which was then still a couple years shy of becoming the fashionable tourist hub it is today. We were jetlagged, culture shocked, and hungry, so that first night, my father and brother courageously ventured out into the wild in search of provisions. I fell asleep before they returned. The next morning, I woke up at 5 a.m. and ravenously feasted on a cold Quarter Pounder with cheese and limp French fries that had been left by my beds...

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