Making it count...

In the wake of Celtic’s unfortunate loss in the San Siro, it’s worth considering if our defeat was due to bad luck, poor finishing of a combination of both. For many of us it’s an old story of dominating large periods of a game only to see the sucker punch arrive and undo all our good efforts. There is no doubt that we are in our most difficult ever Champions’ League Group but Lennon’s team is becoming more experienced and more confident on their travels. The Italian sporting press were clear that Milan were poor but they were also complimentary to Celtic. Gazzetta Dello Sport as you would expect rounded on Milan’s poor display by saying…
 

‘Miracle at San Siro: AC Milan collected their first three points with a 2-0 win against Celtic at the end of a game memorable only for its rare ugliness. At times it was unsuitable for a prestigious stage of the top European competition. For periods it was the Celtic salt which was shaking the San Siro. De Jong prevented Brown scoring and Stokes rattled the crossbar. But football is crazy and Zappata’s low shot, deviated by Izaguire and Forster can do nothing. And that’s not all, Muntari doubles Forster’s pain after Balotelli was lucky to escape punishment and the referee gave him the foul! Incredible! I don’t know how Milan won this game!’

An ordinary AC Milan fan commented in the section below the report of the game in Gazzetta Dello Sport…’I never thought I’d see Celtic come to the San Siro and have more ball possession than Milan. 3 points was a miracle!’ Tiscali Sport was also clear that while Milan played poorly, Celtic were a useful team…

‘You could see Celtic grow in this game and force the Rossonerri onto the defensive. In the second half the guests take a more control of the operation and Milan suffers, defending with nails and teeth the vehement attacks by Lennon’s men: Samaras misses the post with a fireball from the edge of the box and a near goal by Commons is deflected by Mexes. On 34 minutes the crossbar is rattled by a shot from Stokes. Milan is very fortunate. However,  three minutes later, when Zapata’s a low shot which was not great but was deflected by Izaguirre for 1-0.‘

 Other Italian sports pages were clear that Celtic were worthy of a point. Giornalettismo Sports Paper commented on the game…

‘’Two goals, three points, zero game. This is the perfect summary of the game played by Milan. Sure, there were the injured to weigh the bill but that cannot provide an alibi for the expensive squad. Against a Celtic who deserved at least one point you could and should do more. Milan appeared incoherent and devoid of ideas.’’

Most of you reading this will agree that the team was a little unfortunate to lose the game but as we’ve seen on ECL away days such as Lyon,(2-3)  Bayern Munich, (1-2)  Juventus (2-3) and Manchester United (2-3) the very highest echelons of European football is a ruthless and unforgiving place. It’s no use bemoaning bad luck because it happens to Celtic far too often to be down to luck. It’s all about scoring when those rare chances come along. We did it Moscow last season when we scored three goals from 4 or 5 half decent chances. We did it in the home tie with Barcelona when we somehow managed to win with barely 25% ball possession. In the San Siro we had several good opportunities but the end product was lacking. Perhaps the confines of Scottish football don’t demand enough to hone Celtic’s finishing skills to the level required. That ruthless streak required at the very top level simply isn’t there. Scott Brown had a great shooting opportunity in the second half and De Jong was on him blocking the shot in a heartbeat. Compare that to the static defending when Balotelli’s free kick was palmed into danger zone by Forster. Three Italians could have forced the rebound home as our defence stood and watched. It’s those small things which make the difference at this level.

This weekend, Celtic will face St Johnstone, while Milan face a strong Napoli team which deservedly defeated Borrusia Dortmund this week. The stronger European leagues demand a higher level of performance every week and that perhaps is the difference. The fact that the very best players will naturally gravitate to the greater financial rewards of the big leagues also contributes to this lack of parity. That being said football remains 11 against 11 and with determination and a bit of belief the underdog can still emerge victorious. We’ve seen Celtic beat technically superior teams on a good few occasions because football is about guts and heart as much as technical and tactical ability.

So we approach the upcoming games with some confidence. We played well and dominated possession at the home stadium of the seven times European champions. We defended fairly well in the first 80 minutes and had we taken the lead might well have won. The vital first goal took a huge deflection on its way in although the closing down was slow.  On the first day of October our old adversaries Barcelona will come to Celtic Park. Just a year ago we defeated them so they will be out for revenge. It has all the makings of a classic encounter played in the midst of the finest atmosphere in European Football. Can we discover our ruthlessness as we did last year? I think we can but it’s a huge mountain to climb as Ajax found out in the Nou Camp.  Every fan must raise the roof and drive the team on. With a little luck we might see lightning strike twice in the same spot. Being Celtic fans means we always have hope in our hearts but it’s tempered by realism and the knowledge that everything has to come together on the night for us. This group is the hardest we’ve ever faced but we’ll face it bravely and 60,000 of us will back the team to the hilt and see how the dice fall. Whatever happens our visitors will know they’ve been in one of the great arenas of world football.

There is an old Italian saying which goes: ‘Meglio un giorno da leone che cento da pecora.’ It translates as ‘Better one day as a lion than one hundred as a sheep.’  I hope we can discover our roar and perhaps add some bite to it too. Our days of being lambs to the slaughter should be well over. We live in hope. Come on you Bhoys in green!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Celtic Principle

As AGMs go it was a difficult one for the Celtic board. Of course the family dynasties which owned most shares in Celtic were in little serious trouble as they could easily defeat any motions they disliked. However on that September day in 1957 Bob Kelly reiterated a vital component of Celtic’s DNA. Various shareholders had rightly asked why the club was faring so poorly in the league again and pointed out that the title of 1954 was the only one Celtic had won since the war and only the 4^th in the previous 30 years. Kelly played a straight bat and reiterated the Club’s policy of developing their own players and pointed out that many of the youngsters on the books were showing great promise. It was then, according to the minutes of the AGM, that a fan raised an issue which led to Kelly rounding on him and reminding him of a great pillar of the Celtic philosophy. The shareholder in question asked if the club’s lack of success could be remedied by raising the number of Catholics in the team to 9, 10 or even 11? Kelly responded to this by stating in unequivocal language that this was never the Celtic way nor would it ever be. He said…

‘It has been the founding Fathers’ doctrine and Club policy that Celtic field the best possible team regardless of denomination. Non-Catholic’s had throughout the club’s history played their hearts out for Celtic and the policy of the founding Fathers’ would continue! With the new school of youngsters there is no doubt that Catholic youth will show up well and have every opportunity to show its worth but the principle (of a mixed team) will remain the same as always.’

Kelly sat to a storm of almost unanimous applause. There was no doubting his commitment to an open an inclusive Celtic. A club which was founded by immigrants and proud of its Irish Catholic heritage but also open to all who had the ability and character to wear the Hoops.

It was at that same AGM in September 1957 that Kelly appointed Jock Stein as coach of the Celtic reserve side. He recognised Stein as a leader and increasingly shrewd tactician. Jock had been seriously injured in a game against Rangers and the damage to his ankle left him with a limp all his life. Kelly was clear that Stein was the man to make things happen at Celtic by developing the new crop of talented young players in the correct manner. He said of Stein…

‘Jock’s misfortune (his injury) has in some ways been our good fortune. Jock Stein is the ideal person to take these boys on and create a training school which could easily be the nucleus of our teams of the future.’

Kelly was of course right in his judgement that Jock was the coming man. The Manager in a track suit who would leave the office and work with the players on the training field had arrived. It would take a few years and Stein leaving to manage Dunfermline and Hibs before Kelly’s judgement was proved correct. His return to Celtic, a club of which Stein said was... ‘Not my first love but it will be my last’ gave him the platform to become a giant of British and European football.

A few short weeks after Kelly slammed any notion of Celtic being an exclusive club the team travelled to Hampden to play great rivals Rangers in the League Cup Final. The huge Celtic support knew the club were long odds to win the cup on that October day in 1957. Rangers played what Sports Reporter Cyril Horne called ‘The Power Play which so disfigured the sport,’ but they were torn apart that day as Celtic destroyed them in epic style. The final result was of course Celtic 7 Rangers 1 and the press were astonished that the ‘Iron Curtain’ Rangers defence had been so readily breached by the rampant Celtic forwards. One newspaper of the day said…

‘Eleven players of Celtic Football Club did more in 90 minutes at Hampden Park for the good of the game than officialdom has done in years. For with a display of such grandeur as has rarely graced the vast ground, they proved conclusively the value of concentration on discipline and the arts and crafts of the game.’

 

The humiliation of Rangers at Hampden that day in 1957 was no doubt all the sweeter for Celtic fans as they knew well the Ibrox club’s shameful ‘No-Catholics’ policy was in full swing by then. Not that they were alone in such discrimination as much evidence attests to the fact that many other employers of the time behaved in a similar manner or at least ensured a glass ceiling limited opportunities for advancement for the 17% of Scots who were Catholics.  Those were the days when  James Breen, Head Master of St Patrick’s Catholic Secondary School, Coatbridge marched into the local Bank Manager’s office and asked why recruitment forms were sent to the other High schools in the area but not his.  He embarrassed them into including Catholic youngsters in their recruiting drive. This gutsy and determined man was remembered in a fine obituary in the Herald when he died in 1999. It stated…

‘During his time in Coatbridge, which had a 52% Catholic population, James visited local bank managers to ask from where they recruited trainees. In each case he was told it was from Coatbridge High. Single-handedly, he ended the blatant sectarian embargo. He also recalled his pupils being spat upon by workers during a visit to an engineering works in Coatbridge.’

This was the world which Celtic lived in during the 1950s and the world many of their supporters experienced every day in the work place and wider community. That Celtic avoided such mean spirited discrimination says much about the ethos at the Club. From the days of Brother Walfrid through to the modern era the club has selected players on ability and character and not on ethnicity or religious denomination. Today we proudly count men like ‘Sunny’ Jim Young Kenny Dalglish, Danny McGrain, Bobby Evans, Jock Stein, Bertie Peacock, John Thompson, Henrik Larsson, Scott Brown and a host of others among our greats. I wouldn’t have it any other way as the Celtic I know and love is open to all.

It is fair to say that Scottish society has changed greatly since those far off days when discrimination was so blatant and widespread. We still see echoes of it but they come from an increasingly beleaguered and diminishing group who are for the most part out of step with mainstream Scotland. The irony of this year’s Orange Order Parade marching past the Time Capsule in Coatbridge was not lost on many of us. For they inhabit a rather sad time capsule of their own. I’m not claiming that Jim Breen was the Rosa Parks of Coatbridge but he stood up for what was right and people like him help our society evolve and improve. We owe him thanks and respect for that. Similarly with Bob Kelly at the Celtic AGM in September 1957 who reiterated the Celtic founding principle that men of all faiths and none are welcome at our Club. Others chose the bigoted route and claimed for themselves some tawdry and tainted glory but we all know the cost of drinking at that poisoned well.  I’m proud to say Celtic were never like that and I wouldn’t hold them so dear if they were. Nor would Celtic have thrived without the help of men from all walks of life who played their hearts out for the club.

Hail Hail to them all and long may it continue for in diversity is strength!.

 

 

 

 

Still Walfrid’s Children…

Looking around a packed Celtic Park as 60,000 gathered to support Stan Petrov’s charitable foundation would fill any Celt with pride. The wonderful turnout on a bright September Sunday was in keeping with the best traditions of Celtic Football Club. Those who follow Celtic will know that the club was founded with the sole purpose of alleviating poverty in the East End of Glasgow. The club’s whole reason for being was as a vehicle for raising money for the charity Brother Walfrid had instituted, namely, the Poor Children's Dinner Table. It should never be forgotten that 5000 children died in Glasgow from the effects of disease and poverty in 1888. That was the harsh reality Walfrid faced in his work and his motivation to bring food to the poorest of the poor and give pride to a desperate and often maligned community. This laudable and in some ways unique founding principle for a football club was always going to be under pressure as football gained popularity with the masses and the financial implications became clear. In 1885 the English game accepted professionalism and players well rewarded at the top clubs. Players in Scotland though, remained amateur although many did receive some money or payment in kind.  The flow of Scotland’s top players to more lucrative contracts in England meant that in 1890, 300 Scots played for English Clubs. Everton FC, who had broken away from Liverpool FC following a Board-room split, were called ‘The Team of Macs’ at the time because they fielded virtually a whole team of Scottish players. Liverpool could easily field 11 Scots and Preston North End had 8 in their first team by 1890. Indeed it was a Scot, William McGregor who founded the English League. How could Scotland keep its best players in the country and how could Celtic, a team founded on charitable principles thrive in an age when money was increasingly dominating the sport?

Walfrid’s idealism in retaining Celtic solely as a means of funding his charity would be seriously under threat if Celtic couldn’t induce good players to come and indeed to stay at Celtic Park. The success of the team was vital as it helped increase the crowds who watched them and in turn helped raise more of the funds needed to help the poor.  Given that the Scottish League refused to countenance professionalism, realists like John Glass and Patrick Welsh, both co-founders of Celtic saw clearly that in order to thrive Celtic would need to somehow induce top players to Parkhead. Fans of Hibernian FC will tell you that 8 of Hibs best players went to Celtic in the first years after 1888 after John Glass found them pubs to manage in Glasgow or arranged other financial inducements. The effect on Hibernian FC was almost fatal as they briefly teetered on the brink of extinction. John Glass could see that professionalism must come to Scotland eventually and he wanted Celtic to be in a good position on and off the park when it did.  In 1892-93 season the SFA saw the way the wind was blowing and the Scottish game finally allowed players to be paid for playing football. Professionalism had at last arrived and Celtic was set to thrive.

Around that time, Brother Walfrid was sent to work in the slums of London by the Marist order. Celtic’s founding father arranged football games to raise money for the deprived and barefoot children of Bethnal Green and Bow who, like the hungry children of Glasgow, lived in appalling poverty. That all of this poverty and exploitation existed side by side with the wealthy few in the capital city of the richest and largest Empire in the world is shameful. Walfrid’s departure for London signaled a time of change at Celtic. In 1897 the Club became a ‘Private Limited Company.’ That is to say it was now a professional business, issuing shares and paying dividends. The purists lamented the loss of the Club’s solely charitable identity but some argue that it’s hard to see how the club could have thrived and built a modern stadium while remaining a charity. What is clear from letters to the Catholic Observer in the late 1890s is that the people running the club forgot for a while what the club was founded for. In some years nothing was given to the poor children’s dinner tables despite Celtic’s turnover being among the highest for a football club in the UK.  In 1963 Walfrid’s old school, St Mary’s, celebrated its centenary and a history published to celebrate its 100 years was scathing towards the new business culture at Celtic…

‘The Penny Dinner Tables lost the financial aid of the Celtic Football Club. Brother Walfrid, who founded Celtic as a charitable trust, was sent to London in 1892 and the Committee freed from his restraining hand ignored the end for which the club had been founded.’

As always it was the ordinary Celtic fans who preserved some dignity for the poor by digging deep to fund the Penny Dinner Tables themselves; Parishes, fans Brake Clubs and private individuals raised funds and gave what they could as Celtic travelled down the road of business and profit.  Indeed, James Hanley, himself a Marist and author of the excellent book ‘The Celtic Story’ (1960) described the actions of Celtic in those years as the ‘Betrayal of the charitable trust.’ Bob Kelly, chairman when the book was published in 1960 made sure those remarks were minuted at the AGM of that year and that Celtic looked again at how it supported charity. Most historians agree though that Celtic as a successful professional business has done far more for Charity than it ever could have achieved had it remained itself a charitable trust. The modern Celtic charity fund has, via Celtic’s wonderful supporters, raised millions of pounds for deserving causes and it is just the latest in a long line of initiatives led by the club and its’ fans to support the needy and to live up to the creed which Celtic was founded upon. There can be no glossing over of the disgraceful ignoring of the Penny Dinner Tables which occurred in the early professional years when the ‘Company’ ignored Celtic’s founding principles. However, Willie Maley was certain that the club couldn’t continue to be run by a voluntary Committee and that it needed to become a company in order to create the firm financial footing upon which sporting success was built. The upgrading of the stadium had left the club in debt during part of the 1890s and the new shareholders often received no dividend but it remains a painful truth that for a while they ignored the club’s founding ideal. There was a battle for Celtic’s soul in those days and in the end a middle way was found whereby the club and its supporters continued to support a myriad of charities whilst still being a successful professional club.

Today I see Celtic fans, run, cycle, climb mountains and do a hundred other things to help raise funds for those less fortunate. From the Thai Tims to the courageous and inspiring Oscar Knox, our supporters dig deep. The long list of causes supported by the Celtic Charity fund is testimony that Walfrid’s club is again being true to its principles. The struggle against poverty continues and whether it’s in Maryhill or Malawi it’s our duty to do what we can. Celtic’s magnificent support supports charities ranging from Alzheimers Scotland to Aids Africa, from the Tommy Burns Skin Cancer Trust to the Ugandan Orphans Project. From Shelter Scotland to the Northern Ireland Children’s holiday scheme. That is who we are, that is why we exist and we should never ever forget that. Nor should we ever let those in control of Celtic FC forget it. They did once but our support reminded them that it is our duty and our privilege to help others. We are still Walfrid’s children and we always will be.

Postscript

60,000 wonderful Celtic fans purchased tickets for the game organised by Stiliyan Petrov to help his Leukemia Foundation. The match had stars past and present as well as a host of celebrities playing to aid a very worthwhile cause. As the players walked around the pitch after the game, they waved at the massed ranks of Celtic fans gathered to support Stiliyan’s charity. The fans applauded them and sang the praises of some of their old heroes. But in truth the real heroes of the Celtic story aren’t just the players who wore our famous shirt. They are those wonderfully generous fans who continue to live up to the best ideals of the club. I looked on as some sang through tears the end of the game as Stan and his family strode again our field of dreams. Celtic is no mere football club, Celtic is a family and God bless every one of you… Brother Walfrid would be proud of you all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Day We Stopped the Ten

I could see it coming, Celtic were clearly second best in a raucous match at Ibrox in November 1997 and a goal seemed inevitable. When it did come insult was added to injury when Gough celebrated in front of the Celtic support packed into the Broomloan Road stand by holding 10 fingers aloft. The 7000 Celtic fans in the packed Celtic end knew the symbolism of his gesture. Their decade of agony was continuing and Gough’s Rangers were out to make it complete by smashing Jock Stein’s record of 9 in a row. As the home fans celebrated in their unique way by singing songs about paedophilia and cursing the Pope it seemed only a fool would bet on Celtic stopping ‘The Ten.’

That season had started in uncertain fashion. The previous season had seen the end of Tommy Burns’ tenure as manager and we watched the ‘three Amigos’ Cadette, Van Hoojidonk and Di Canio use us as a bridge into the riches of English football. We had seen the arrival of players such as Blinker, Mahe, Burley and Jackson and although they were all experienced professionals, we were not filled with confidence that they would enable us to take on a resilient Rangers team with Laudrup, Goram, Ferguson and Gough all leading them with a confidence born of a decade of domination. We were more encouraged by Marc Rieper’s arrival and the thinking was that if Celtic could sort out their sieve like defence they might run Rangers close as Larsson, Donnelly and Jackson would find the net at the other end. Paul Lambert’s arrival from Dortmund was also a vital part of the jigsaw as he added a calmness and shape to the team and performed his holding role in midfield with assurance. The squad was full of potential but could Jansen and Murdo McLeod mould them into a team to stop the ten?

Every season has key games and moments which fill you with hope. For me one of them came on a dark autumn night at Celtic Park when Rangers arrived replete with their new Italian goal machine Marco Negri. In a bruising game, Celtic were edging it on chances and driving Rangers back but time and time again Goram saved them as he had done on so many occasions at Parkhead. Then, as so often happened in those years, Rangers scored in a rare counter attack and it was that man Negri who slotted home. His muted and unsmiling celebration suggested to many that his club’s rumoured instructions that he stop blessing himself on the field did not sit well with this Italian Catholic boy.  Gascoigne had rashly elbowed Wieghorst in the face and was red carded in that game but despite this it seemed the old story of Celtic domination but Rangers winning would continue. As injury time ticked by Alan Stubbs trotted up to join the attack for one last throw of the dice. From my seat in the North Stand I watched the ball flighted into the box knowing it was now or never. The Celtic support stood as a man to watch the last act of the drama more in hope than expectation.  Stubbs, for once, lost his marker and met the ball with his head. It looped towards the goal and to my astonishment nestled in the back of the net. Celtic Park exploded and the roar which greeted that late goal split the dark, brooding Glasgow sky. I fell over the seat in front on me during that mad celebration and ended up two rows down among a throng of hugging, dancing Tims who knew how vital that goal was.

Celtic seemed to take confidence from that late goal. Perhaps they weren’t fated to be gallant losers? They could make their own fate now and belief spread throughout the team. The victories were strung together as they surged ahead in the league. The league cup was won at Ibrox against Dundee United in some style and from my seat in the Copeland Road Stand I drank in the magnificent sight of the Ibrox main stand covered in tricolours and other Celtic banners. We roared out that Oasis classic ‘Roll with it’ as the Bhoys paraded the Cup. It was one of those beautiful Celtic moments which make you glad you followed the Hoops. As the year turned and the New year game with Rangers arrived we all knew we had reached a crossroads. The team who won this match usually won the league. Would Celtic rise to the challenge or crumble as they had so often in the painful 1990s?

 

There are iconic moments in Celtic history which are etched on the mind forever. Gemmell’s thunderbolt in Lisbon, Larsson’s chip over Kloss or Watt’s winner against Barcelona among them. That cold and wet January day in 1998 provided another. Celtic had fought with a courage born of desperation that day knowing the importance of the game. They had driven Rangers back but  again Goran defied them. Brattbakk could have had a hat trick that day but the Rangers keeper pulled off a string of fine saves. Finally Burley gave Celtic a deserved lead as the old stadium rocked and seethed but could they hold out? The answer came in the form of the skilful Paul Lambert who supported an attack in front of the noisy temporary stand. As a defensive header fell to him outside the box the Bhoy from Linwood smashed a swerving drive towards the goal. Goram threw himself to his left in an acrobatic attempt to reach the ball. In my mind I can still see that moment as if in slow motion as the ball curved and twisted in the air beyond the despairing hands of the keeper and slammed into the top corner of the net. Celtic Park erupted, a volcano of anguish and disappointment, born of the hungry years of defeat, blew its top as we roared ourselves hoarse. Nothing was going to stop us now! We were going to stop the ten!

 

And so on a bright May day we packed the old stadium as St Johnstone came calling for the final game of the season. We had chewed our nails the previous week at Dunfermline when a late equaliser made us wait till the last day and another nail biting finale! It was our date with destiny.   We wanted so badly to preserve Jock Stein’s legacy of 9 in a row and our task was clear, win the game and we would be Champions for the first time in a decade. It wouldn’t be Celtic without us being put through the emotional wringer so Larsson’s magnificent opening goal in just 2 minutes was followed by another 75 minutes of stress as we fretted about St Johnstone equalizing and spoiling the party. Surely we wouldn’t blow it now? We were so close, it would be perverse and cruel to lose the title when it was within touching distance. The answer came late in the second half when Celtic swept up the right hand side and an excellent low cross into the box was smashed home by Brattbakk. The release of tension was palpable as the songs echoed around Celtic Park. Then the final whistle came… we had done it, we had stopped the ten and grown men cried tears of Celtic joy. My brother hugged me, his eyes moist, ‘God bless you Celtic, God bless big Jock! We’ve done it, we’ve fuckin done it’

After the trophy was presented the players departed with our cheers and our songs of hope and joy ringing in their ears.  It was then that we poured onto our field of dreams in a spontaneous and huge green wave, a tsunami of joy! Tens of thousands of Celtic fans celebrated on the field that sunny May day in 1998. We sang and danced and did the huddle like our heroes on that hallowed turf. It was another of those unforgettable Celtic days which make you glad you follow this incredible team. Every single Celtic fan who was there that magical afternoon will never forget the day we stopped the Ten.

God Bless you Celtic, God bless big Jock!

 

 

Once they stormed the walls of Troy…

Those sneering ‘journalists’ who disrespected Billy McNeil at the Champions League draw this week reminded me of an old story from Ancient Greece I read at school. In the story some young and ignorant boys are disrespecting some old men in the town square. They are rebuked by a man who asks, ‘Do you know who it is you are being so disrespectful to?’  They shake their heads and answer no. The man tells them, ‘Once these men were the greatest warriors in the entire world... once they stormed the walls of Troy.’ The boys, raised on tales of the Trojan war, were ashamed of their actions and apologise.

It’s a fair bet that few of you will know who Américo Tomás was but I’d  wager that most of you will have seen his picture. Mr Tomás was the thirteenth President of Portugal and was present at the National Stadium in Lisbon on the 25 of May 1967 when the beautiful game was rediscovered. He had the historic task of handing the gleaming European Cup over to the inspiring captain of Celtic, Billy McNeil. There are many iconic images of the handsome young Celtic skipper holding the European cup aloft in the bright Portuguese sunshine. He stands in memories view proud of what he, his club and his community had achieved. It was as if 1967 was the vindication of 1888 and all those struggles, setbacks and trials had brought Celtic to this place on this day to proclaim their greatness to the world. Billy McNeil personified Celtic that day. He was that rare combination of pride and humility, of determination and dignity. For those of us who love Celtic it remains the greatest moment in the club’s history and for many others it was the vindication of football as it should be played. For McNeil it was to be the pinnacle of a fabulous career which saw him bring honour to his club, country and to himself. But it could all have been very different.

The glory of Lisbon was a long way off when a lanky teenager who had been spotted by Bobby Evans signed for his boyhood heroes in 1957. Bertie Auld well remembers young McNeil at Celtic Park in the late 1950s and said of him…

"Big Billy was a natural leader of men. He had presence and arrogance without being big-headed. When he walked into the dressing room in 1958 I instinctively felt it was the start of something big for Celtic.’’

Celtic had endured torrid times since the war and had won just one title in almost two decades. There were some spectacular moments like the 7-1 drubbing of Rangers or the Coronation Cup victory but there was no sustained success and no hint that they were ready to win the title let alone compete in the newly founded European Cup. McNeil had been a pupil at Our Lady’s High School in Motherwell, a school which had produced footballers like Matt Busby, Bobby Murdoch and other luminaries like Cardinal Thomas Winning. Signing for Celtic was a dream come true for the big defender and he was lucky enough to do some of his early football education under the watchful eye of an old pro who knew the game well and who had retired  the same year McNeil had arrived. His name was Jock Stein and his appointment as reserve team coach in 1957 gave him a taste for management. It was no doubt disappointing to Billy and many others at Celtic Park when Stein left to take up the Managers Job at Dunfermline in 1960.  However, following Stein’s departure, the subsequent few years, saw coaching, management and ambition become seriously deficient at Celtic Park. The club seemed to drift along as if hoping that something would turn up.

 

Some of the drubbings Celtic took at the hands of their greatest rivals in the early sixties hurt the fans badly. They were mauled 1-5 at home to Rangers in a game which saw the fans anger grow more vociferous. They were thrashed 4-0 at Ibrox as Pat Crerand threw his shirt off in disgust. They were dismantled 3-0 in the 1963 Cup Final replay after Bob Kelly had interfered with the team which had done so well to draw 1-1 in the first game. In 1961 they totally outplayed Jock Stein’s Dunfermline in the Scottish Cup final only to find an inspired goalkeeper and poor finishing cost them the cup. Amid the perennial crisis and underachievement, young McNeil continued to develop as a player and as a man. He was capped by Scotland regularly and the press often noted that his displays were the only bright light for Celtic fans in some matches during those lean years. By 1965, McNeil was entering his peak years and attracting the attention of clubs in England. As a young player with a growing family he began to think of where his footballing future might lie. However, things were about to change dramatically at Celtic as a new manager took up the post in March 1965. McNeil could scarcely contain his pleasure when the burly figure of Jock Stein returned Celtic Park. He was a man with an astute football brain and had a mission to return his old club to its former glories.

Stein knew McNeil was the natural leader he needed on the field. Some say their relationship was like a father and son, others that it was more akin to a General and young Officer. To me it was a partnership, a meeting of minds. Stein brought the self-belief, organisation and greater professionalism to a talented but essentially inconsistent and underachieving young squad. McNeil brought leadership, example and a burning desire to see Celtic rise again. Their first test together was the Scottish Cup final of 1965 when Dunfermline again provided the opposition. Twice Celtic fell behind and twice they refused to wilt and equalized. Then with the clock running down came an iconic moment for Celtic and McNeil. In old photographs he hangs imperiously in the air waiting to meet a corner with his head. The ball bulleted into the net and the Celtic fans and players roared out as one that a new era had arrived. No longer will the sleeping giant slumber, it was awake and filled with a hunger that will not be easily satiated.

The following decade saw Stein and McNeil embark on an incredible journey as Celtic entered the most successful period in their history. McNeil led Celtic to 9 titles, 7 Scottish Cups and 6 League Cups as well as winning the greatest prize in European club football on that warm day in Portugal. It was as if the lean years had made Celtic ravenous for success and they gorged themselves for ten glorious years. McNeil’s personal contribution to this cannot be underestimated, not only his timely goals in European ties or cup finals, but his unstinting professionalism and will to win. For more than 800 games he filled that famous hooped shirt with pride and drove others on to help continue the success of the Stein years.

Far superior writers than I have written in praise of Billy McNeil’s achievements on the field and in the dugout. I write as fan lucky enough to have seen this excellent footballer play. But he did more than simply play; he led by example, inspired, cajoled, drove his team on and was the epitome of what a Celtic Captain should be. When they talk of Celtic’s greatest team his name will be one of the first written down. He has left a mark on Celtic which few before or since can match and for that every Celtic fan in proud and glad to count Billy among our heroes.

Postcript

The teams came out to a tremendous roar from the crowd of over 130,000 at the 1969 Scottish Cup final.  Celtic looked immaculate in their fresh green and white shirts and were led by the imperious McNeil. The Celtic captain strode the Hampden turf exuding that air of confidence which made you feel that you had a winner on your side.  The packed Celtic end roared as Celtic started the game and charged at the Rangers defence with typical pace and vigour. A corner was won in the first minute and McNeil strode forward to add his height to the attack. As the ball curled into the box he lost his marker, a certain Alex Ferguson, and headed the ball towards the goal. It struck the inside of the keeper’s right hand post and nestled in the net behind him. The deafening roar which greeted that goal signaled that today would be Celtic’s day. McNeil punched the air in delight as his team mates engulfed him. The game would end 4-0 to Celtic and the skipper who started it all in the first minute of the game completed his day by hoisting aloft the cup in front of his adoring fans. How they roared in appreciation of their skipper and the qualities he brought to the club they all loved.

McNeil was a warrior, a leader who led his men through many battles with distinction and class. Those ignorant journalists at the Champions League draw didn’t know they were in the presence of greatness. That is to their shame but we who know of Billy McNeil’s achievements as a player and as a man will forever be thankful for his contribution to Celtic. Thank you Billy.

Hail César!