The Road to God knows where

The Road to God knows where

The supporters’ bus rattled along the A80 towards Falkirk and a trip to the quaint little stadium the Bairns called home. It was September 1992 and Celtic was already having one of those Jekyll and Hyde seasons. They started the month beating St Johnstone at home before being mugged 3-2 by Hibs at Celtic Park and then travelling to Germany where a lacklustre Cologne side beat them 2-0. As usual a well-worn tape of the Wolfe Tones greatest hits accompanied us on our journey and there was a definite comradeship among the supporters on the bus which had been fostered by the hard times their club was facing. The glorious, sun drenched centenary season of four years earlier seemed like a distant dream as the team swung from occasional brilliance to baffling ineptitude. As we neared Brockville the songs got a little louder and the whole bus was singing…

‘We’re on the one road, sharing the one load

We’re on the road to God knows where

We’re on the one road; it may be the wrong road

But we’re together now who cares?

North men, south men comrades all

Dublin, Belfast, Cork or Donegal

We’re on the one road swinging along

Singing a Soldiers song….’

The thousands of Celtic fans crowding the turnstiles at the James Street Terrace may have wondered if the line ‘we’re on the road to God knows were’ was written for them and their club in those difficult years.  1992-93 Season would see the club draw 12 and lose 8 of their league matches to finish a distant third behind Rangers and Aberdeen. Celtic Park needed rebuilding, the team needed strengthening and the Board seemed clueless about how to do this and compete with a Rangers side which seemed to have unlimited funds. Our bus load of hopeful fans joined thousands of others on the terraces to back their team although most were unsure of which Celtic would show up. As it turned out we saw Celtic’s many faces that day.

After a tense and foul littered start, Pat Bonner came fully 16 yards from goal to punch the ball clear and only succeeded in knocking it to a Falkirk player who instantly chipped the stranded keeper. Tony Mowbray punched the goal bound shot off the line and was sent off. The penalty was converted and the Hoops were 0-1 down. It was such a typically bad goal to give away. The team fought back and goals from Wdowczyk and Creaney had the Bhoys back in front. More suicidal defending followed and Celtic’s 2-1 lead was a 4-2 deficit by the 70^th minute. It was unbelievable; Falkirk, a team who would be relegated that season, had hit four against Celtic. The stoics among the Celtic support hadn’t given up though and roared the team on. First Gerry Creaney scored with a fine header and then amid wild scenes Andy Payton equalised. In the very last minute with the game tied at 4-4 Celtic got a free kick about 22 yards from goal. We looked on as John Collins placed the ball. If anyone could curl it home he could! In the packed terrace behind the goal we watched and waited as he took his run up. Collins struck the ball well but it hit a defender in the wall. As a collective groan was about to emerge from thousands of throats, Collins raced onto the rebound and smashed an unstoppable shot into the net. The travelling support went wild. The team had fought back from 4-2 down to win the game and we trooped back to the buses happy.

In those times we really had hope after good performances that we might at last be turning a corner but in reality we were losing 4 goals to teams like Falkirk and were too inconsistent to challenge for the title. That late win at Falkirk sent us home happy though and we discussed our team on the road back to Glasgow. ‘Gillespie looks like he’s made of glass,’ someone said and indeed the former Liverpool player was so injury prone that he was known as the ‘Tampax.’ (In for one week then out for three) Collins and McStay were the match of any midfielders in the land but the defence was nicknamed the Sieve and it was a very apt moniker.

Celtic being Celtic, they lost the next match to an Aberdeen side containing Roy Aitken and then really hit a low point when Partick Thistle recorded a rare win at Celtic Park. Those two dreadful defeats came just before Cologne rolled into town for the return leg of their UEFA cup match with Celtic. The team roused themselves before a raucous Celtic Park crowd and smashed three goals past the stunned looking Germans to send them out of Europe. It was a scintillating display of attacking football and had us dreaming again that perhaps we could do something that season. Alas it was another false dawn.

Still, we rolled up to away grounds throughout the country and backed our team through thick and quite a lot of thin. There was the cup tie at Forfar where Celtic needed a late goal gave the team a 2-1 win. We arrived at Station Park to find joiners still working on the turnstiles. I spoke to a local who told me that winning the Forfarshire cup was the height of their ambition that season and that perhaps fans of big clubs didn’t appreciate the stoicism and loyalty of lower league fans who trudged along in all weathers with no hope of ever winning any major trophy. It put Celtic’s troubles into perspective. There was the Scottish Cup tie at Falkirk where we lost 2-0 as the Bairns defeated Celtic for the first ever time in a Scottish cup tie. It wasn’t pleasant losing such games but a sort of black humour was at play too and despite the team’s yoyo performances we still had a lot of laughs on the road. I recall Bryan Robson’s Testimonial in Manchester where over 12,000 Celtic fans headed south for a midweek match. Our bus stopped at the St Brendan’s Irish centre where the well-meaning locals had laid on a band. As hundreds of Celtic fans packed the room and started drinking the band began their set with Flower of Scotland. Nothing wrong with that fine song but one hooped fan waited until it was finished before whispering into the singer’s ear. His next song was the Fields of Athenry. We got home from that game at 4am and still made work at 8.

You needed a sense of humour in those times as Celtic’s league positions in the first 5 seasons of the 1990s were; 5^th, 3^rd, 3^rd, 3^rd & 4^th. It is perhaps a blessing that there was no social media them as it would imploded under the weight of Celtic fans’ anguish. The Fanzines were of course available to offer a forum for discussing the way forward and Not the View was always particularly witty and darkly funny. One edition had a picture of a depressing looking funeral on the front page with the heading saying ‘End of season party gets into full swing.’ In a strange way though, those years though did bond the fans closer together in a common purpose and that was of course to rebuild our club and see it become successful again. There was a hunger, a real desire to get the club back where we all thought it belonged but there would be no quick fix to the problems besetting Celtic in those days.

1994 began with a truly depressing match against Rangers. The Ibrox club were 2-0 up inside 3 minutes and led 3-0 at half time. The cold January rain matched the mood as Celtic eventually lost 4-2 and some fans vented their anger on the Celtic board. There was a dark comic twist when one Celtic director was hit with a Mars bar thrown by a disgruntled fan. One Fanzine commented, ‘He was hit by a Mars bar on the whole nut in front of a Galaxy or reporters. Police say there is a Bounty on the Bandit’s head.’ Things on the field were far from funny though as Celtic played 7 matches that January; lost four and drew 3; it was in many ways the month which effectively sealed the fate of the old board. The fans were in open rebellion and the writing was on the wall. Change was coming.

That change would be led by an unlikely and abrasive little man with a Canadian accent and a plan to revolutionise Celtic. He bought a controlling stake in Celtic for £9.5m. Celtic had been perilously close to bankruptcy. The supporters again dug deep to raise the millions of pounds required to rebuild Celtic Park and at last try to rebuild the team. The hungry years wandering in the wilderness were coming to an end although there would be more pain before Celtic could reclaim the title. One friend told me after a particularly dispiriting defeat at Tynecastle against a mediocre Hearts side, ‘It’s character building, and you’ll enjoy the good times more when you remember days like this.’ Perhaps there’s a grain of truth in that as there are young Celtic supporters who’ve grown up knowing nothing but success. A couple of defeats sends a minority into a frenzy of condemnation. Perhaps age and experience lends some perspective to such things.

I can’t say I enjoyed Celtic’s struggles in the 1990s but they were my team and like so many others I stuck with them through some dark times. The passion and hunger to see them successful again drove us on and in many ways laid the foundations for the good times we’re enjoying now.

Supporting Celtic is akin to falling in love; they exasperate you at times and you may squabble and bicker but you always come back for more because you know when the chips are down they’re the only one for you.