It wasn't in 1990 but I did manage to melt a pair of shoes on a bonfire once (they were on my feet at the time, my mother went mental - the soles went all weird like the edges of a fried egg).
I was a "little" bit older than that. Without giving too much away, I had been working for nine years and was the father of a delightful daughter who was already older than three.
Speaking of such, if anyone ever tells you that the atmosphere at Celtic Park is electric it is nothing to do with the singing; it is down to the static from all the shellsuits rubbing together.