The Power of a Song…

Those of you who know the story of Victor Jara will know that the Chilean Folk Singer did what he thought was right for his country and the impoverished and oppressed majority within it. His weapon of choice was his guitar and the songs of freedom which helped sweep the Socialist government of Salvador Allende into power in 1970. Of course the Military and their puppet masters in the CIA organised a coup which saw Allende dead and thousands of left wing intellectuals and activists rounded up and imprisoned in the national football stadium in Santiago. The military junta, as is the way of such fascist and reactionary regimes, left a trail of torture and death in their wake as they ‘cleansed’ Chile. Jara was sent to the stadium with the thousands of others in September 1973 and few, if any of them, saw their families again. The soldiers, knowing Jara was a folk singer wanted to make an example of him and used an axe on his hands in front of hundreds of other prisoners. Witnesses said they laughed and said ‘sing for us now, Victor’ to him as he lay on the turf. To their astonishment, despite his horrendous injuries, Jara stood up and said, "All right comrades, let's do the señor commandante a favor!" and began to sing the ‘Unidad’ a left wing song. The eyewitness recalled that Jara was then machine gunned before the military turned their guns on the other prisoners. Victor Jara’s body had 44 bullet wounds when his English wife identified it at the morgue. Five years later, the SFA thought it appropriate to play Chile in a friendly match in that same stadium.

Forgive the rather heavy content of that first paragraph but it illustrates that some people see songs as dangerous things. Victor Jara weapons of choice were his guitar and his songs. U2 remembered him on their Joshua Tree Album when they wrote in the song ‘One Tree Hill’…

"And in the world a heart of darkness, a fire zone. Where poets speak their heart, then bleed for it. Jara sang, his song a weapon, in the hands of love. Though his blood still cries from the ground."

And so we come to another song in another time and place which some seem to find offensive. Police kick in doors and drag young men off for daring to air it in public. This isn’t 1970s Chile or some other despotic dictatorship, this goes on in 2013 Scotland. The song in question is of course ‘Roll of Honour’ which remembers the 10 Irish Hunger Strikers who died in 1981. It is sung by a small minority of Celtic supporters, mostly at away games and has been the focus of much discussion among the Celtic support. Anyone who reads my blogs will know I don’t think a football stadium is the place for the expression of political sentiments of any kind. I make no value judgment about such songs. I merely question the damage they do to Celtic and our support’s reputation. It is worth printing the lyric of the song here so anyone not familiar with it can judge if they find it offensive or not for themselves…

‘Read the roll of honour for Ireland’s bravest men
We must be united in memory of the ten,

England you’re a monster, don’t think that you have won
We will never be defeated while Ireland has such sons.

In those dreary H-Block cages ten brave young Irishmen lay
Hungering for justice as their young lives ebbed away,
For their rights as Irish soldiers and to free their native land
They stood beside their leader – the gallant Bobby Sands.
Now they mourn Hughes in Bellaghy,
Ray McCreesh in Armagh’s hills

In those narrow streets of Derry they miss O’Hara still,
They so proudly gave their young lives to break Britannia’s hold
Their names will be remembered as history unfolds.

Through the war torn streets of Ulster the black flags did sadly sway
To salute ten Irish martyrs the bravest of the brave,
Joe McDonnell, Martin Hurson, Kevin Lynch, Kieran Doherty
They gave their lives for freedom with Thomas McElwee.
Michael Devine from Derry you were the last to die

With your nine brave companions with the martyred dead you lie
Your souls cry out “Remember, our deaths were not in vain.
Fight on and make our homeland a nation once again !”

In terms of content it is a straight forward homage to the courage of Republican prisoners during the troubles, who paid the ultimate price for their beliefs. The ‘Threatening Behaviour at Football and Offensive Communications Act (Scotland) 2012’ deems that in some circumstances such songs may breach the law. Was there ever such a big hammer used to crack such a small nut? A dedicated Police Unit raiding homes, people banned from football with no explanation, young men criminalised for what exactly? Holding political views those in power disagree with?

 Most of us in our naivety thought the new Act would target the hate crimes we lived with for decades and which went unpunished. Namely the foul anti-Catholic rhetoric and anti-Irish racism spouted by a sizable minority of Rangers supporters over the years. It is with some astonishment we watch much of that continue at Newco games with impunity while a small group of Celtic supporters are harassed for political songs! Let’s be clear about it, the above song is not sectarian though some of the unionist persuasion will no doubt dislike it. Personally I would rather it was not sung at Celtic matches but I respect the right of others to disagree with me. Our society’s arguments should be measured on such subjects and based on respect and education not on intolerance and criminalisation. What place is there in a so called democracy for this criminalisation of political opinion? Would they dare do this to any other faction in our society? Not even Nick Griffin and his deplorable fascist party have to deal with such harassment.

 I am a moderate man but even I feel this Law is un-needed and unjust. The tax payers of this country are funding our police and legal system to crack down on political opinion the ruling politicos disagree with. This isn’t about hooliganism as Celtic fans have no real problem in that area. It’s about the labelling of any expression of Irishness as sectarian and offensive. Let’s be clear that those of a unionist or even loyalist opinion are equally entitled to their political beliefs and songs. Where some over-step the bounds of decency and indulge in sectarianism or racism, the existing laws were more than ample to deal with it. It remains a mystery why the Police didn’t enforce those laws over previous decades when naked sectarianism was the order of the day at certain football stadia. However, if we are to allow unfettered freedom of expression, then we as Celtic supporters need to be clear that it applies to all groups in our society. John J Ray, academic and Celtic fan commented on the jailing of a Rangers fan for ‘Sectarian’ singing by saying…

 ‘The other thing that strikes me is how anti-Catholic prejudice seems to be tolerated when it comes from our ‘national treasures’, like Stephen Fry or Richard Dawkins, but not when it comes out of the mouths of football fans. When the pope visited Britain two years ago, liberal campaigners lined up to accuse him of everything from hatred of women to paedophilia. To my knowledge, none of these words were deemed offensive enough to the UK’s Catholic community to prompt arrests or detentions, yet when a Rangers fan shouts of his hatred for the pope, that fan is locked up!’

 So those who wish to continue to sing songs about the conflict in Ireland may well have unlikely allies in those who want to sing the praises of loyalism. So what’s to be done? Do we have a free for all and return to the dark days of the 1960s and 70s? Of course not, but we currently have an unjust act which clearly isn’t working and ordinary young men being criminalised and having job and life prospects damaged for singing political songs. My thoughts are that the alleged £1.8m spent on policing relating to the act would have been better spent on education and anti-sectarian initiatives. You can’t outlaw opinions or political choices in a free society but you can channel such feelings into more appropriate areas. You can’t legislate hatred or bigotry away but you can try to make it less acceptable until it eventually withers and dies. It’s somewhat ironic that the anger this has caused makes it likely that more people will sing songs like ‘Roll of Honour’ as they seek to reassert the basic right to hold and express political opinion as well as show solidarity with the harassed minority. The ‘Threatening Behaviour at Football and Offensive Communications Act (Scotland) 2012’ has created more problems than it has solved and is in need of serious amendment or scrapping.

We saw from the life and death of Victor Jara that some see songs as dangerous weapons. Surely we’ve advanced enough in Scotland to accept diverse opinions without trying to make those opinions we disagree with illegal? And what of the Civil Liberties groups who were so appalled and vociferous when the Russian Pop band ‘Pussy Riot’ were imprisoned for 2 years for shouting anti-religious slogans in a church in Moscow? The silence from them and indeed the trade union movement is deafening. People’s rights are being infringed here, is that acceptable just because they’re football fans?

 

You'll Always Be With Us...

You’ll Always Be With Us…

Barry stood in the doorway of Sniper’s bedroom as he rummaged around in a drawer by his bed. ‘Yass!’ Sniper said in triumph before turning to face his friend. 'Ye see that?' said Sniper pointing at a small silver medal in his rather grubby left hand which showed a footballer on the front, 'Won that for the school team.' Barry shrugged, 'So what's so good about that, I won about 8 for St Robert's?' Sniper ignored the comment and pushed on, 'It's no the fact that we tanked that mob fae Nitshill in the final though it's always good tae beat they jakies, it's who presented the medals!' 'Will ye get tae the point ya big fud! Who presented ye wi yer wan and only feckin medal?' Barry said impatiently. 'Guess!' said Sniper, a garrulous smile on his face. 'Guess nothing! Tell me or I'm off! Ye sure drag a feckin story oot so ye dae?' Sniper smiled, 'Initials are TB.' Barry exhaled loudly then added in an irritated voice, 'Tony Blackburn? Tony Blair? Tallulah feckin Bawbag! Who actually cares, Sniper?' Sniper seemed to be enjoying the game but finally relented and said, 'It was Tommy Burns.' ‘Whit?’ said Barry, ‘Seriously, Tommy Burns came tae your school tae dish oot footy medals?’ Sniper smiled, ‘He sure did, while you were getting yours fae Mr Bam-Bam from the maths department, I got mine from a Celtic legend. Shook my haun tae so he did!’  Barry looked incredulously at Sniper as he was a man known to tell the odd lie. Sniper could see Barry wasn’t fully convinced and returned to the drawer and fished out a photo frame. He handed it to Barry who looked at the picture. It showed the unmistakable peanut shaped head of a much younger Sniper, hair cropped like a Borstal boy and wearing a baggy red and white school strip. He was shaking hands with an equally unmistakable Tommy Burns. Sniper was telling the truth. Barry shook his head ‘Well feck me wi the jaggy end of a pineapple, it is TB!’ Before Sniper could respond Mick arrived at the door and was shown in by Sniper’s long suffering mum, ‘Howzit going chaps, are we all set for dear old paradise tonight?’

The supporters bus dropped 70 hopeful Celtic fans near the Gallowgate and they streamed forward to join the human river flowing towards the stadium. Sure Celtic were miles behind Rangers in the SPL but they had two games against their bitter rivals to go and tonight was the first of them. It was a must win game, they all knew that. ‘Europe is cracking them up,’ said Mick, ‘they’re starting to burn out.’ Sniper nodded, ‘I’m telling you mate they’re crap, we’ll win this league.’ Barry thought it a long shot but Sniper’s usually blind optimism had been proven correct on other occasions. ‘Besides...’ Sniper went on, ‘I’ve got my lucky charm on me.’ Mick looked at him, ‘Lucky charm? What is it, yer certificate of insanity?’ Sniper smiled and pulled a piece of string from beneath the collar of his Celtic shirt. ‘It’s the medal handed to me by the great Tommy Burns back in the days when I could overlap like Danny McGrain.’ Barry looked at him, ‘Mer like Fanny McGrain in your case big man.’ Mick laughed, ‘Seriously, Tommy gave you that medal?’ Sniper nodded towards Barry, ‘Just ask dog’s breath Barry, he saw the picture.’ Barry nodded, ‘It’s true Mick, this big fud met TB.’  Sniper let the medal hang loosely around his neck as they reached the great North Stand of Celtic Park. ‘Could ye no afford a chain Sniper?’ asked Mick looking at the thick string around his friend’s neck. ‘You no afford soap, ya dick?’ said Sniper with a smile.’

It was mid-April in 2008 when Celtic met Rangers in a crucial game at Celtic Park. The atmosphere throbbed and sizzled as the game commenced and the three amigos who had shared so many great days following the Hoops roared themselves hoarse. Rangers were well ahead in the league and didn’t know whether to stick or twist. Celtic went for them from the off and only inspired goalkeeping kept them at bay. That changed in 20 minutes when Nakamura’s tremendous swerving shot slammed into the net. Sniper hugged his two friends with a ferocious passion as they celebrated the goal. In the second half a counter attack saw Novo snatch an undeserved equaliser and the minutes ticked away with the score tied. McDonald’s missed penalty seemed to confirm that Rangers would snatch the draw they came for but Celtic threw everything at them. Then in the very last minute of the game a cross was headed down by McDonald and Jan Venegoor of Hesselink met it with his head to snatch a dramatic last gasp winner. Celtic Park exploded! ‘Yaaasss!’ roared Sniper, ‘Told ye, we’re winning this league!’ Barry was starting to believe it might just be possible. As the final whistle sounded, Sniper grinned like a Cheshire cat and grabbed his lucky medal, held it to his lips and kissed it.

 

Three days later Celtic beat Aberdeen 1-0 and then faced Rangers again in a bruising encounter which they won by 3 goals to 2. They had dug deep after being 2-1 behind and Barry Robson’s penalty had sealed a vital win. It was now in their own hands. Motherwell were then beaten 2-1 away in a tense encounter and Hibs, who had held Rangers 0-0 the week before, were beaten 2-0 at Celtic Park. It would all come down to the last day of the season. Celtic were away at Dundee United and Rangers away to Aberdeen. It would be a tense finale to an incredible season.

A week before the game, the three friends met up in the pub to plan their trip to Dundee, no way they were missing this one. The mood though was sombre as the great Tommy Burns had lost his battle with skin cancer earlier in the day. ‘Guy was a legend’ said Mick, ‘One of the best men you could ever meet.’ Sniper seemed close to tears, ‘It’s no fuckin fair, decent guys dying young and complete arseholes living tae be a hundred.’ Barry patted his arm, ‘He’s in a better place Sniper. He had a strong faith.’ Sniper looked away, eyes moist, sighed and headed for the bar to buy another round. Mick shook his head and looked at Barry, ‘Big man’s taking this hard, mate.’ Barry nodded, ‘Tommy was his hero, gave him that medal years ago, you remember stuff like that.’ Mick sighed, ‘We all loved Tommy, pure Celtic so he was. The guy, bled green and white. Be nice if we won this league for him.’ Barry nodded, ‘We heading over to Celtic Park tomorrow? I hear Sniper’s set for it.’ Mick nodded as Sniper returned with the drinks, ‘Wouldn’t miss paying my respects tae that guy, wan of the best guys who ever wore the green.’

 

The following evening they drove over to the east end of Glasgow in bright spring sunshine. ‘Wonder if it’ll busy?’ asked Mick in quiet tones. Barry nodded, ‘I hear a few folk have left scarves and flowers by the front door.’ As they parked the Mick’s battered old Ford Escort and walked up Kerrydale towards the stadium it was clear that many, many people had come to pay their respects to Tommy Burns. ‘Jesus!’ said Barry, ‘Would you look at that, would ye just look at that!’ A huge area in front of Celtic Park was carpeted with Celtic strips, scarves, flags and other memorabilia. Thousands of flowers scented the air and here and there were pictures of Tommy Burns, many beside candles which flickered in the evening breeze. Many hundreds of people were wandering among the tributes reading the heartfelt messages left to honour one of the good guys. A group near the front door were saying the rosary as the three friends passed. Sniper tied a scarf he had worn in Seville onto the railing beside a drawing of Burns, arms raised after scoring a goal. Tears rolled down the tough big Glaswegians face. ‘There ye go mate,’ he said talking to a nearby picture of Tommy Burns, ’Yer an immortal now, yer wi big Jock and Jinky and we’ll never forget any of ye’ Barry watched the astonishing outpouring of emotion all around him and looked at Mick. He too was fighting back tears. ‘What is it with this club?’ Barry asked. ‘’I know,’ said Mick, ‘it’s incredible, it means so much to us all. It’s like we’re all connected.’ Barry nodded, understanding flooding his mind. We are all connected he thought to himself. We’re all Celtic people. He thought of the struggles of the community who gave Celtic birth and helped it reach the heights it had. They had all shared in that journey of triumph and disaster down the generations and overcome the obstacles put in their path. Mick, Sniper, Tommy Burns and literally untold hundreds of thousands of others were all part of the incredible story of Walfrid’s club.

 

Two days before the league decider at Dundee United Tommy Burns was buried. Thousands of ordinary Glaswegians and not just Celtic fans, packed the streets around St Mary’s church, the place where his beloved Celtic had been conceived 120 years earlier. Thousands more stood outside Celtic Park to listen to the funeral service being broadcast on speakers. As a black hearse containing the remains of Tommy Burns drove slowly down Kerrydale Street there was applause, tears and then spontaneous singing of his name. The road was littered with Celtic scarves and flowers thrown by fans. It was a last embrace this side of heaven for the Calton boy they held so dear. 

 

              Tanadice Park   22 May 2008

The supporters’ bus was rocking all the way to Dundee. Sniper, Barry and Mick sat at the back and joined in all the songs. This was the night, their date with destiny. The proposition was simple; win the game and Celtic would be Champions. Draw or lose and it could still be snatched from them. Celtic had won six games in a row. Make it seven and they’d be champions. The ground was packed as the three friends took their place in the stand above the managers dug out. Sniper had his football medal around his neck and touched it, as if for luck, every few minutes. The Celtic support were in raucous mood and their songs poured down onto the field. ‘This is it!’ said Barry as the teams came out, ‘Let’s do it Celtic!’ As the Hooped shirted Celtic team went into their pre-match Huddle a huge roar built up from the thousands of supporters they had inside the ground. Then they started singing a familiar song, ‘Tommy Burns, Tommy Burns, Tommy Burns!’ echoed around the stadium. The players had every incentive to win the title but could they do it?

The first half was a nervous affair with Celtic dominating but unable to score. Half time came and went as fans exchanged nervous glances and rumours about the score between Aberdeen and Rangers circulating. The second half saw Nakamura felled by a defender and a huge roar for a penalty but astonishingly the referee booked him for diving. Sniper was apoplectic with rage at the referee, ‘If we lose this, I’m invading the pitch and bootin his baws!’ he vowed. Then came one of those moments in sport which can act as a release valve for all the pent up tension and emotion. Firstly Aberdeen took the lead against Rangers 100 miles to the north and then in 72 minutes Jan Venegoor of Hesselink met a corner from the left with his head and bulleted the ball home. The Celtic support was in raptures! They roared out their songs in a non-stop cacophony of noise. Nothing was going to stop Celtic winning the title now! It had been an astonishing climax to the season. High above the pitch Sniper clutched his medal, ‘I told ye we’d do for ye Tommy! And we did!’ Barry and Mick stood either side of their friend, each with arm around his shoulder as they sang their hearts out.

As the players paraded the cup, Barry could see that each wearing a T shirt with a picture of Tommy Burns on it below which were the words ‘You’ll always be with us.’ He smiled as he watched Mick and Sniper cheer their heroes. ‘You’ll always be with us’ he thought to himself, ‘and we’ll always be with you. God bless you Tommy!’ He turned and joined in the chant with thousands of others as they sang in perfect unison, ‘Glasgow Celtic Champions Oh-Oh-Oh-Oh-Oh-Oh-Ooohh!’

 

Tommy Burns was home and so too was the Championship trophy. It was fitting tribute to a Celtic great.

 

 

Rivals not enemies

 

 

Rivals not enemies

Lutz Long watched his main competitor for the long jump gold medal foul for the second time. The judge raised his red flag to declare it a no jump. The handsome young German wandered over to the talented American and gave him some advice in front of 110,000 watching fans. ‘You’re jumping too late, try jumping from a few inches further back. You’ll make the qualifying distance no problem so why risk another foul and disqualification?’ It was a very sporting act from Long and he watched the young American take his advice and leap into the final. That young American eventually beat Long to the Gold medal. His name was Jesse Owens and this happened at the 1936 Berlin Olympics in front of Adolf Hitler. Owens, an African American, was aware of the Nazi’s crackpot racial theories and said afterwards that “It took a lot of courage for Lutz to befriend me in front of Hitler, you can melt down all the medals and cups I have and they wouldn’t be a plating on the 24-karat friendship I felt for Luz Long at that moment.’’ Lutz Long was first to reach Owens when he smashed the World record and won his gold medal. He held Owens arm aloft, recognizing his sporting greatness as the crowd cheered. The two became good friends during those 1936 games and wrote to each other in the next few years. Of course the war came and Lutz Long lost his life fighting for the Wehrmacht in Italy.

You may wonder what tangent my mind has wandered off on tonight and I can’t blame you. I often seem to be on auto pilot as my fingers type out my stories. I think the story of Lutz Long and Jesse Owens came to mind as I saw another fine example of sportsmanship last night. When the excellent Andres Iniesta was leaving the field during the Celtic v Barcelona match a very rare thing occurred. A majority of the home fans applauded this excellent little footballer who has perhaps been among the top 5 players on earth for five or six years now. Despite Celtic being behind and the game looking lost those fans still had the intelligence to see that a cracking little player was leaving the field. That’s sportsmanship. That’s the Celtic way. Neymar may be the coming man of Spanish football and be blessed with wonderful footballing gifts but few of us have much respect for a young man given to overreacting to have opponents sent off. True greatness in sport is more than skill and pace, it is sportsmanship too and the Brazilian for all his talents is sadly lacking in this area. One Spanish Newspaper noted the sporting applause of Iniesta and stated…

‘The Celtic fans are the most encouraging fans for their own players, but also the most friendly and respectful of their opponents. Therefore their followers were quick to say farewell Andres Iniesta with a standing ovation when he was substituted in 88 minutes. Celtic Park thundered though the Scottish team was losing. In fact, thousands of fans stood up to applaud Iniesta.’

Of course we want our stadium to be a cauldron which helps push the team on and awe opponents but we know a player when we see one too and we know how to show respect to the many greats who have graced our stadium. I recall a Celtic v Ajax European Cup tie many years ago when a veteran Johan Cruyff appeared for the last time at Celtic Park. The game was a fantastic advert for attacking football and ended 2-2. The Jungle roared on the Hoops against a team with could boast class players such as Molby, Cruyff, Lerby, Olsen and a very young Marco Van Basten. Both teams were cheered from the field and Cruyff was given a special ovation in respect of his achievements in the game.  He said afterwards, ‘The Celtic crowd understand the game, they respect good players and that is why we respect them.’ Celtic won 2-1 in Amsterdam a fortnight later to knock Ajax out of the European Cup.

A few detractors were unhappy with the ovation Iniesta received  but the vast majority feel it’s right to allow each individual fan to choose whether to applaud a player or not. I think it’s important to realise that teams can be rivals without being enemies. Celtic has unique founding principles and our support have been wonderful maintaining them over the past 125 years. Sure we don’t like the divers and play actors but when we see a player who oozes class and plays the game the right way we aren’t afraid to show our appreciation, just as 100,000 Real Madrid fans cheered Jimmy Johnstone back in 1967 when he ripped their defence apart in the Bernabeu. Just like the Celtic supporters last night, the Madrid fans knew a player when they saw one.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Where does it come from?

 

Where does it come from?

In the excellent movie ‘Mississippi Burning’ hardened FBI veteran and Southerner Gene Hackman is trying to explain the violent racism in the south to fellow agent and Northerner, William Defoe. Defoe asks him ‘Where does it come from, all of this hatred?’ Hackman recounts his boyhood in Mississippi when his father, a farmer, poisoned a Negro neighbour’s new mule. When young Hackman asked his father why he had done it, his father replied, ‘Son, if you can’t be better than a nigger who can you be better than?’ Hackman then relates a truth prevalent in many societies with this sort of hatred, ‘He was an old man so full of hate that he didn’t realise that being poor was what was killing him!’  The film, based on the real life murder of three civil rights activists in the early sixties, is a powerful testimony to the malevolent power of racist hatred. It also demonstrates the degree of courage it takes to stand up to such deep rooted and institutionalised evil. Let us go forward 20 years from those grim events to an incident in my home city in the early 1980s…

The following is a true story: It was a raw winter’s day back in the early 80s when a few of us left Celtic Park to get some heat in a nearby pub on Duke Street in Glasgow’s east end. Usually we stayed to the very end of the game but on this occasion with the game well won we headed early. Those of you who remember the Gallowgate of those days will recall the General Wolfe pub and Terry’s tattoo shop which we passed on our way up to our destination. We turned right and headed up to Millerston Street. Near the top of the street was an old derelict church and a Garage. As the small group of us reached the garage the trap was sprung. A crowd of 40 or 50 young men armed with iron bars, sticks, whiskey glasses and at least two knives swarmed all over us. It was almost 30 years ago but I can still remember the drunken visceral hatred on their faces. ‘Kill the Fenian Bastards!’ it began in sadly typical manner. The four or five of us had little chance to escape the inevitable frenzy of hatred which overwhelmed us. I remember trying to drag some ignorant people off my brother before a blow from behind put the lights out for me. I awoke in the Royal infirmary where I learned that my friends and family were thankfully not seriously injured. Bruising and stitches heal but such events leave a scar which doesn’t. By sheer chance a police van had turned into Millerston Street as the attack was on-going and had scattered the cowards who need 5-1 odds and weapons in their fights. The fact that Police Van had turned into Millerston Street at that precise time probably saved a life.

Some months later I was travelling into town on the bus with a few mates and one of the guys who formed part of the mob got on with his girlfriend. He sat on the top deck, front seat and was looking mighty nervous as I glared at him. My mates asked me what was going on and I replied in a voice loud enough for the guy in the front seat to hear, ‘That’s one of the scummy bastards who attacked us last winter.’ My mates were all for hurting him, girlfriend there or not, I told them not to on her account. One of my pals said, ‘It’s your call but I’d rip his balls off.’ As we left the bus I said to the quivering wreck sitting with his lady, ‘I’ll be seeing you again one day pal and you should be thankful I’m not a liberty taking bastard like you.’ I have yet to meet him again since that day.

Those memories rose to the surface today after many years. I guess it was the discussion on events at Ibrox stadium where members of the United Kingdom’s armed forced cavorted and danced on the field as supporters of the new club sang all the old bigoted songs. Some even joined in. It wasn’t armed forces day or remembrance week when these graceless scenes occurred it was just another Saturday in Scotland’s largest city. Some of ‘our’ soldiers posed with scarves emblazoned with sectarian messages and surely senior officers will look into this? This reminded me of a time outside the old Pollok shopping centre when I took my old uncle for some messages. Some soldiers had set up a recruiting stall outside and were letting kids peer through the sights of some thankfully unloaded rifles. As we passed a young man asked one of the soldiers what his tattoo was. It showed King Billy on a white horse and had the numbers ‘1690’ below it. The soldier quickly rolled down his sleeves and ignored the question. The young guy shook his head, ‘I can see how fair you’re going to be when ye get tae Belfast ya  Bastard,’ he said and moved on.

I’ve written in the past about the unhealthy glorification of the military going on in modern Britain but few of us with Irish connections need to be told why it’s wrong. To see serving military personnel dancing around to racist drivel like ‘The Famine Song’  or the ‘Billy Boys’ is simply ludicrous. Yes, many of them may have no idea of the content of those songs but those in Scottish regiments certainly do. The days when this sort of thing was acceptable are long gone. The ‘We Are the People’ brigade should be made quite aware that we are all ‘the people’ now and we will not accept the naked bigotry our grandfathers’ did. The Croppies are not lying down any more.

Now, I’m not for a moment contrasting the prejudice faced by Scots of Irish descent to the depressing and awful experience of African Americans. To do so would be quite wrong as the sheer scale and viciousness of historical and current prejudice faced by African Americans defies description. What I am saying is that prejudice and hatred is by its nature similar the world over and only the degree of acceptance any given society allows it differs. Clearly modern Glasgow is not 1960s Mississippi and the vast majority of Scots are fair and decent people. There remains, however an underclass which cling to outmoded ideas of Scottish identity which is as out of date as horse drawn carriages.

I recall attending an anti-racist seminar when the speaker spoke of what she called the ‘5 Steps of racism.’ These were, according to her…

(1)            Joke about the target group

(2)            Avoid the target group

(3)            Discriminate against the target group

(4)            Physically assault members of the target group

(5)            Kill members of the target group

Few among the population can be said to be capable of all 5 of these steps although the deaths of several Celtic fans both here and in the North of Ireland suggests a tiny minority are. The disappearance of the industries and communities which offered a safe haven for exclusion and bigotry has left some in our society lost. The ‘Social Dominance Theory’ which sought to provide certain groups in society with the moral and intellectual justification for bigotry suggests the use of ‘Legitimising myths’ to uphold their belief system. Such myths hold that the group being discriminated against bring it on themselves by being lazy, disloyal, dirty, work shy, etc. For some, these myths are more important than the truth. Scotland is changing fast and becoming more diverse. It isn’t the white, Presbyterian land it once was and that seems hard to take for some. But our people of all hues need to accept the hard fact that bigotry festers in poverty and ignorance and only by creating a more equal society where all feel a sense of belonging and live with dignity, can the monster be slain forever. Have we changed since that day in Millerston Street? Most of us have but some refuse to move on.

So where does it come from all of this hatred?  As one of the characters in Mississippi Burning says so well…

’Hatred isn't something you're born with. It gets taught. At school, they said segregation what's said in the Bible... Genesis 9, Verse 27. At 7 years of age, you get told it enough times, you believe it. You believe the hatred. You live it... you breathe it. You marry it.’

That is still the sad truth for a sizable number of our fellow Scots. They learn at their father’s knee that others are different and are to be hated. Until that ends we will still have this poison in our country.

 

The Talented Mr Lennox

As I stood one damp Glasgow day looking at the statue of Jimmy Johnstone outside Celtic Park, I couldn’t help but notice his best friend from the days of glory coming out the stadium front entrance. The frame may have aged and the hair greyed but there was no mistaking this Celtic great.  I shook his hand and said simply, ‘Thanks for all you did for Celtic.’ He smiled, said thanks and then looked at the statue and said, ‘That was my wee mate there, still miss him.’ I nodded and replied, ‘We all do Bobby, we all do.’

Bobby Lenox and Jimmy Johnstone were inseparable in their heyday spearheading the attack in Celtic’s finest ever side. While Jinky attracted the eye for his incredible dribbling ability and his huge capacity to take the rough play of defenders and come back for more, Lennox was absolutely lethal. He possessed a turn of speed which must rank him among the fastest players in Celtic history. It is worth remembering that while the great Henrik Larsson hit 242 goals for Celtic in a glittering spell at the club, Lennox scored 273. Indeed, this would probably have been in excess of 300 if it wasn’t for the decisions of linesmen who wrongly flagged him offside on many occasions when his sheer speed had fooled them.  The classic example of this was his ‘goal’ against Liverpool which was wrongly disallowed costing Celtic a place in the Cup Winners Cup Final. Only the legendary Jimmy McGrory scored more goals for Celtic than Bobby Lennox.

 

His total medal haul of 1 European cup, 11 league Championships, 8 Scottish Cups and 5 League Cups is simply astonishing. He scored for Scotland at Wembley in their 3-2 victory over the then world champions and hit the winning goal against Real Madrid in the Bernabeu. All of that suggests a player of the highest calibre and Boby Lennox was certainly that. The great Real Madrid player Alfredo Di Steffano said of him….

‘The Scotsman who gave me the most trouble was Bobby Lennox of Celtic. My Testimonial at the Bernabeu was against Celtic as they were Champions of Europe in 1967 and although I remember the Bernabeu rising to Jimmy Johnstone, I admired Lennox greatly.’

Manchester United Legend and no mean judge of a player, Bobby Charlton, came up against Lennox for England and in friendly matches and was duly impressed. He said…

‘If I had Lennox in my team, I could have played forever. He was one of the best strikers I’ve ever seen.’

Those of you too young to have seen him play at least you have video footage to give you a glimpse of the talented Mr Lennox. The Saltcoats boy who ran along the beaches of his native Ayrshire to build up his stamina and incredible speed gave the fans some fantastic memories. His hat-trick at Ibrox as Celtic demolished Rangers 4-0 in 1966 will live long in the memory of those who saw it. His goal in the 1969 Cup final epitomised his speed and lethal finishing. Then there was his contribution to the epic victory in Lisbon in 1967. Yet Bobby was a modest man, quick to point out that team mates such as Murdoch and Auld often set up his goals. He would often say he played with terrific players without mentioning the fact that he was a terrific player himself.  It’s easy to forget how physical the game was in the 1960s and 70s. Players like Lennox took an incredible amount of punishment from ruthless defenders. I recall him out pacing the Rangers defence at Ibrox in 1976 only to be scythed down by John Grieg and left with a broken leg. The Referee awarded a penalty and then bizarrely changed his mind and gave a dubious offside decision. Grieg wasn't even booked as Lennox left on a stretcher. The punishment players like Bobby and Jinky took would surprise the modern fan. It took a particularly violent foul to have a player even booked in those days and many defenders hacked away until the Ref finally took their name. For many of them though, Bobby was simply too fast to catch.

Bobby Lennox arrived at Celtic Park from Ardeer Recreation FC in the dark days of 1961. Celtic were struggling badly and Manager Jimmy McGrory added the pacy teenager to a reserve team which contained many of the men who would go on conquer Europe a few years later. All of that seemed far away as Celtic struggled to match the powerful Rangers, Hearts and Dundee teams of the era but of course all of that was to change with the arrival of Jock Stein. He moulded the so called ‘Kelly Kids’ into a powerful attacking force which went on to become the greatest club side in Scottish history. It is testimony to Lennox that he was there throughout Stein’s reign and won an astonishing 11 league championships with the club. Stein used his pace on the flanks to great effect and brought out the best in a talented and supremely fit footballer.

 

His last game for Celtic was the cup final of 1980. If you watch footage of the winning Celtic goal that day in all its scrappy gloriousness, you will see the face of the ever enthusiastic Bobby Lennox race to congratulate George McCluskey and Danny McGrain. Almost 20 years since he first signed for Celtic, this lifelong Celt still took great joy in the club’s successes. The man who recalled coming up to Glasgow as a wee boy with his dad to watch Celtic play Arsenal in the Coronation Cup went on to be one of the mainstays in the club’s most successful era.

As I watched him walking towards his car that day outside Celtic Park, some of the younger Celtic fans walked past him without a second glance not recognising this Celtic great. The older generation though don’t forget their heroes. From the quick smile to the ‘Alright Bobby’ or handshake, they let this Celtic great know that they’ll never forget his achievements. Yes, he played with some great players but he was among the best of them. He was also a decent and fair man who was hardly ever booked in a long and glorious career despite taking a lot of stick.

We won’t forget your wee mate but trust me Bobby we won’t forget your contribution to Celtic either.  

Bobby Lennox. Celtic Great.

 

 

The Team I loved so well…

 

The Team I loved so well…

I was listening to a bit of Paddy Reilly after Celtic’s surprise exit from the league cup. It’s surprising how music can sometimes define your mood. As the big Irishman sang ‘The Town I loved so well,’ a song about Derry in the troubles, I reflected on a bad night for Celtic. As if on cue big Paddy reminded me that we can’t rewind the past and play the game again and that we should take defeat on the chin and move on. He sang…

‘For what’s done is done and what’s won is won

and what’s lost is lost and gone forever,

I can only pray for a bright, brand new day

for the town I loved so well.’

In the aftermath Celtic's unexpected defeat to a plucky but rather fortunate Morton side this week, there was considerable soul searching, not to say anger among the supporters. For three matches running (AC Milan, St Johnstone and Morton) our misfiring forwards have cost us, or almost cost us the game. The Morton match saw us have 66% ball possession 27 corners and 25 attempts on goal and we still couldn't score. That is worrying when you consider we fielded a relatively strong side. Neil Lennon isn't an unintelligent man. There is no doubt he sees the striking issue as one which needs to be addressed. His post-match analysis that 'It just wasn't our night' is only partially true. Yes, now and then any team can miss chances and lose games they dominated but there is a worrying pattern of this developing which needs to be addressed. It didn't go un-noticed that Gary Hooper was on target for Norwich on the same evening. If we are to sell such players then we must replace them with players of equal stature or the quality of the team will go down. We all know the flaws in the team at the moment but even accepting that they should still be capable of beating Morton. If there was a bright spot on a rather dark evening for Celtic it lies in the fact that we dominated the game and created many opportunities only to spurn them all. That wasn’t always the case on such occasions.

I recall well the cup exit to Inverness Caledonian Thistle in 1999. On that occasion Celtic were woeful and barely created a chance. We also had Mark Viduka and coach, Eric Black literally fighting in the dressing room at half time. It took half the team to separate the two of them and Viduka refused to play in the second half as the Highlanders deservedly won. Morton, for all their pluck were fortunate but we wish them well and move on. It would be churlish to mention the fact that their penalty was yet another in the ‘debatable’ category. Their defensive performance and sheer doggedness meant they deserved a result. Yes, they rode their luck as teams must do when faced with superior opposition but I seem to recall Celtic putting in a ‘backs to the wall’ performance against Barcelona a year ago and emerge victorious. That's football. It's the most unpredictable ball sport on Earth. A game where a bad bounce, poor refereeing decision, poor finishing or inspired defending can change the outcome of a game.

When you buy into following Celtic, you accept the ups and downs. What you should never accept players giving less than 100% for the club as we saw from Viduka back in 1999 when he refused to play in the second half of a game in which we were struggling and needed him. I can’t say the team didn’t try last night because they did. A mixture of good defending and appalling finishing did for us. But if the, sometimes, bitter taste of defeat teaches us anything, it's to savour our triumphs all the more. A poet once wrote…

'For what in life is pleasure
If we do not consort with pain?
It's the rod by which we measure
The prize we seek to gain.'

Tuesday night's defeat was painful and some would say embarrassing but focus is required, not dissention. We face a game at Kilmarnock this weekend and this is followed by the daunting task of taking on the brilliant Barcelona again. What's done is done, we look to the future as we must and follow the dramatic story of Celtic FC to the next chapter. Trust me; this season will leave us with more cheers than tears. Eyes on the Prize and keep the faith!

 

Great expectations?

As I chatted to the fans around me at half time during the recent St Johnstone match at Celtic Park the subject turned to the upcoming tie with Barcelona. A year ago I had asked the lady who sits behind me what she was expecting when Messi and co came calling. ‘A battering’ she replied. Of course it didn’t quite turn out that way as Celtic, inspired by that wonderful support and the weight of their historic anniversary pulled off one on the shocks of the season by beating the mighty Catalans. Few who attended that game will ever forget the atmosphere or spectacle. This time around she was again less than optimistic. ‘We’re not as strong as last year,’ she began ‘and Barca will have revenge in mind.’  There seemed to be a mood of realism among the fans I spoke to that Celtic’s real fight in this group will be with Ajax for third spot and the Europa League place. Anything we pick up against Milan or Barcelona will be a bonus. That isn’t having a lack of ambition. It’s accepting that while we can still pull of some incredible victories in Europe, especially at home, the gulf in finances, squad depth and quality can be a chasm at this level. Most fans, it seems, are approaching the ‘group of dignity’ in hope rather than expectation.
 

Barcelona recently paid £45m for Neymar and added him to a squad including Danny Alves, (£25m) Alexis, (£20m) Mascherano, (£18m) Fabergas (£26m) and Song. (£16m) When quality such as this is blended with players from their very effective youth set up such as Messi, Xavi, Pique, Puyol and Valdes, it’s plain to see this team represents a challenge of epic proportions for Celtic. They arrive in Glasgow with 5 wins out of 5 in La Liga and have of course beaten Ajax 4-0 in the Champions League opener. As part of the Neymar deal they played a useful Santos team and crushed the Brazilians 8-0. It’s going to take a coming together of certain circumstances for Celtic to beat this team. Barcelona were in town 11 months ago so Celtic Park holds no surprises for them. They have played there on 4 occasions since 2004 winning 2 (3-1 & 3-2) and losing 2. (0-1 and 1-2) The game in October will be a titanic task for Celtic and they’ll need the supporters to be patient and create that quintessentially Celtic atmosphere. If they don’t bring their A game we may have a chance but a repeat of the heroics of 2012 remains a long shot. Don’t discount the possibility of Celtic winning the match but temper such hopes with a realistic appraisal of the size of the task. Barca don’t defend too well at times but their midfield and attack remains among the best in world football.
 

Ajax, as many of you no doubt noticed, were thumped 4-0 by PSV Eindhoven this weekend. There has been a pattern of struggling away from home this season for the Amsterdam club. They have so far failed to win at AZ Alkmaar, (2-3) Herenveen, (3-3) FC Groningen, (1-1) PSV Eindhoven, (0-4) and of course Barcelona. (0-4) They have leaked a surprising amount of goals on their travels and this offers real hope to Celtic when they play Ajax at Celtic park on Match Day 3. It is vital Celtic win that game to set them up for the remaining ties in the group.  Milan too, are certainly beatable at home and that game should be targeted as one we should take something from. They came to Celtic Park in 2008 as European Champions and lost to that late Scott McDonald goal. Justice was done on that occasion as the simulation for their ‘Penalty’ that night was in the ‘laughable’ category. Only one man in the stadium thought it was a penalty and unfortunately for Celtic he was the referee. A decent performance and a brave referee would give us some hope of taking something from that game.
 

I often say that Celtic’s targets each season should include qualification for the Champions League Group stages. Anything we achieve in the competition after that is a bonus. To come out of Pot 4 last season as the so called ‘weakest’ team and progress in a group containing Barcelona, Benfica and Spartak Moscow was an incredible achievement. It was built on solid home performances (2 wins and 1 draw) as well as picking up a win in Moscow. This season we are in what is without doubt the strongest group we have ever faced. I remain optimistic that we can progress although it may be to the Europa League. Enjoy the spectacle our fans create and the wonderful drama of the best club tournament on Earth. We may rely on UEFA President, Michel Plattini’s ‘Champions Route’ to help us get there as it means we avoid qualifiers with clubs such as Arsenal, Shakhtar Donetsk or Milan. But we are there on merit and players and fans of other clubs love to share in our unique Champions League atmosphere. So let’s rise to the occasion and roar out our songs of hope as Celtic joust with the giants of European football again. If Barcelona or anyone else wants to leave Celtic Park with anything, they’re going to have to earn it. We may not have the biggest budget or most talented players in Europe but we have all the heart and spirit in the world and the greatest fans you could ever ask for.  We also have a togetherness forged by a common history of adversity and prejudice and this can make Celtic very dangerous opponents. Let’s give it 100% and see what happens sometimes, just sometimes, incredible things occur on our field of dreams and Walfrid’s team, as it has shown so often in the past, fears no one.