Our Bright and Shining Star

 

Our Bright and Shining Star

Dr Davidson had seen much during his time at the Victoria Infirmary in Glasgow. The city was home to a million people and the inter war years saw unemployment, hardship and illness increase. Each day brought its quota of injured souls into the hospital and he did his best for each and every one of them. That clear September day saw the two biggest football clubs in the land playing at Ibrox Stadium and on such occasions the Glasgow hospitals were kept busy. What Dr Davidson didn’t expect to see though, was a gravely injured footballer brought before him. As he examined the young Celtic goalkeeper, he quickly realised that, given the nature of his injuries, his chances of survival were slim.

John Thomson was said by those who saw him play to be the finest exponent of the goalkeeping art in Scotland. James Handley, in his book ‘The Celtic Story’ (1960) said of John Thomson…

‘It is hard for those who did not know him to appreciate the power of the spell he cast on all who watched him regularly in action.  The generation that did not see John Thomson has missed a touch of greatness in sport, for which he was a brilliant virtuoso, as Gigli was and Menuhin is. One artiste employs the voice as his instrument, another the violin or cello. For Thomson it was a handful of leather. We shall not look upon his like again.’

John was brave to a fault in an era when goalkeepers could expect merciless and sometimes brutal treatment from opposing forwards. Referees allowed a degree of physical contact on goalkeepers in those days that would astonish the modern football follower. It was perfectly legal to kick the ball out of the goalkeepers’ hands in that era. This explains goalkeepers quickly kicking the ball up-field in those surviving, flickering films of games from that era. In this brutal environment, John Thomson was fearless to a fault. Not the biggest of goalkeepers, nor the Indeed, his brother Jim said…

‘John had been injured a few times before because he always went straight for the ball. I had asked him the previous time he was injured if he wasn’t going to stop going in like that. He said he should, but it was the ball he was after. He didn’t see anyone else or anything else.’

That single mindedness of purpose was to have fatal consequences for John Thomson on that September day at Ibrox 95 years ago. By any standards, it was a tense and patchy Glasgow derby for the 80,000 fans, with both teams giving their all. Just after half time, Rangers forward, Sam English raced after a through ball as Thomson set out to thwart him. English was in the act of shooting, as John Thomson dived towards the ball. The young goalkeeper’s forehead met the striker’s knee with sickening force. It was a complete accident which would have bitter consequences for both men. Thomson lay on the turf, critically injured and the players closest to him knew he was in real trouble. As sections of the crowd began jeering Thomson, Rangers captain Meiklejohn stilled them with hand gestures. This wasn’t just another injury a keeper would shrug off. John Thomson was fighting for his very life.

As Thomson was stretchered off, his head swathed in bandages. One newspaper said that John Thomson was, ‘seen to rise on the stretcher and look towards the goal and the spot where the accident happened.’ Chic Geatons took over in goals for Celtic, but the players on both sides, seemingly aware of the seriousness of Thomson’s injury, played out the rest of the game in a disinterested manner. The match ended 0-0 and the huge crowd headed for home or to the bars wondering how the young goalkeeper was getting on.

John Thomson suffered a major convulsion at 5pm that evening and Dr Davidson carried out an emergency operation to try and lower the amount of pressure caused by the swelling brain. Alas, the operation was unsuccessful and he was pronounced dead at 9.25pm. He was 22 years old.

There was a palpable feeling of shock in Scottish football, and indeed in wider society, when news of John Thomson’s death was announced. The ugly side of Glasgow’s footballing rivalry was challenged by some as being stupid in the face of such tragedy. John’s funeral was attended by tens of thousands of people. Many of them had walked over 50 miles from Glasgow to attend and John’s family faced a difficult day with great dignity. They invited Sam English to their home and told the distraught young Ulsterman that they knew he was blameless. John’s coffin was carried by his stunned team mates to his place of rest in Cardenden. A place still visited by Celtic fans today.

Sam English would score a club record 44 league goals that season but was finding it hard to cope with a moronic minority at many away grounds who would greet his appearance with shouts of ‘murderer.’ Such treatment of a young player already dealing with the trauma of Thomson’s death was cruel in the extreme. He left Scotland and joined Liverpool before quitting football at the age of 28 after what he called ‘seven joyless years of sport.’  He commented to one reporter that he was the ‘second unluckiest footballer in the world.’  No blame should ever be laid at his door for what happened on the September day 95 years ago.

John Thomson entered Celtic folklore as our lost ‘prince of goalkeepers.’ Poems and songs eulogised his undoubted ability and in many Celtic households, grown men were reduced to tears as someone sang the haunting balled written for this fine young man. Part of the lyric is as follows…

I took a trip to Parkhead,
To the dear old Paradise,
As the players made their appearance,
Sure the tears fell from my eyes.

For a familiar face was missing,
From the green and white brigade,
It was the face of young John Thomson,
For his last game he had played.

Farewell my darling Johnny,
Prince of players we must part,
No more we'll stand and cheer you,
On the slopes of Celtic Park.

Now the fans they all are silent,
As they travel near and far,
No more they'll cheer John Thomson,
Our bright and shining star.

So come all you Glasgow Celtic,
Stand up and play the game,
For between your posts there stands a ghost,
John Thomson is his name.

 

John Thomson 1909-31

Sam English 1908-1967

May they both rest in peace.