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!

 

 

 

 

 

The Ghosts of the past...

 

The Ghosts of the past…

An Olympic champion once said that ‘Gold medals aren’t made of gold, they’re made of sweat and determination.’ Both those qualities were found in abundance at Celtic Park this week when Shakhtar Karagandy came calling with a two goal lead and more arrogance than their limited footballing ability should have allowed them. After 44 minutes of physical effort from both the players and the fans, it looked as if the visitors might get to half time with 0-0 on the scoreboard. That was until Kris Commons decided to unleash a shot of ferocious power and accuracy which signalled that Celtic were far from finished in this tie.  The ghosts of yesterday would have smiled to see that old Celtic Park roar drive the Bhoys on to a famous victory. The despair of the first leg was forgotten as Celtic blasted the time wasting, diving and occasionally thuggish visitors into the Europa League. It was no more than they deserved.

 

As I looked around the Stadium at full time from my vantage point in the Jock Stein stand watching the celebrating thousands share yet another magical moment, I couldn’t help but think of the generations of Celtic fans who have backed the club since that first tie in May 1888. What a journey they have come on! My own family have followed Celtic for 5 generations now and as I get older I think of those, now long gone, who once shared this ordinary space with thousands of others and made it sacred by their dedication to the ideals of Celtic and their passion to see the club succeed. They treasured Celtic and passed it on to their children like an heirloom of great value. The great North Stand now stands where the old Jungle was and before that the old curved roofed shed with its rusty holes, leaks and grass growing on the terrace steps. From there, the hard core would belt out their songs of hope and joy and find their hard lives illuminated by those who wore the green and played the game in that quintessentially Celtic way. They would marvel at the great temple of football which stands there today and be glad that their Celtic, the club they loved so much, is still thriving, still giving its support memories to cherish.

As I watched the joy on the faces of young and old in those moments after Celtic’s victory it made me a little emotional. I was a reminded that history is remade every day, that all our glories of the past are simply markers on our journey. There are undoubtedly more pages to be written and new heroes to emerge as this great club continues its amazing journey. We who follow Celtic take pride in all the club achieves for it has punched above its weight for virtually all of its existence. Few clubs have the bond with their followers Celtic has. Reading the messages on Twitter and Facebook in the wake of Celtic’s victory demonstrated the genuine strength of feeling thousands have for Celtic. Even those with little connection to the club have warmed to our magnificent support and our club’s unique history and want us at the Champions League party. Xavi Alonso of Real Madrid tweeted…

’What a night for Celtic FC !! Celtic Park buzzing again. I wish we could meet in group stage and play for once in there.’

The draw didn’t pair Celtic with his tremendous Real Madrid team but hopefully one day our two great clubs can meet again. Barcelona’s Director of Football, Andoni Zubizarreta said of the tie with Celtic…

"Celtic again, it's like meeting old pals. I love going to Celtic park, the atmosphere is great".

Our club has a reputation which goes far beyond any expectations of a team playing in a small league on the periphery of Europe. AC Milan announced on their Website that the Group involving Celtic, AC Milan, Barcelona and Ajax should be termed ‘The Group of Nobility.’ Not just because the Clubs involved have won 16 European Cups between them, but because they play the game in the best traditions of free flowing, attacking football. The word ‘Nobility’ it should be noted has its roots in the Latin ‘nobilitas’ meaning noted or high born. But it can also denote people who behave with integrity, honesty and generosity. In that sense, Celtic, born among the poverty and despair of the late nineteenth century east end of Glasgow, created to feed the poorest of the poor, is indeed noble. 

Barcelona called it the ‘Group of Champions.’ While Ajax Manager and old adversary Ronald De Boer stated on their club Twitter Feed after seeing his club’s opponents, "Three great teams, Wonderful for the fans." It is remarkable that Celtic are held in such esteem by the great clubs of Europe and much of this is down to the tremendous support our fans give the team in Europe and the fact this drives the players on to heights they seldom achieve in the domestic game. We know we can’t compete financially with the giants of Europe but when its 11 against 11 under the lights at Celtic Park anything is possible. If I’m being honest, in my heart of hearts I can’t see Celtic getting out of the incredibly tough group they’ve been drawn in but that’s not the point. The point is we are where we belong, among the elite of European football. The point is we will pour that Celtic passion from the stands onto the field, drive our team on and show the watching world that there are no fans quite like Celtic fans, no arena quite like Celtic Park. If we take a few scalps along the way then I’ll be as delighted as anyone but one thing is for sure we’ll enjoy watching our team on our field of dreams.

125 years ago a good man, a friend of the poor, said he would start a football team for the maintenance of dinner tables for the children and unemployed. He could not have envisaged the success his club would attain nor the fame it would win across the footballing world. Nor could he have predicted that those supporters who built this club literally with their bare hands would be feted as the greatest fans in Europe by so many who know football well. 125 years on we are still dreaming our dreams and who knows what the future holds.

What I do know is that that when Barcelona come calling on October 1^st and the Champions League anthem is echoing around the Stadium, I’ll think for a moment  of those who have made this club what it is over the past 125 years. I know the ghosts of the past would smile down on dear old Paradise and be proud that Walfrid’s team is again living their dream.  Then I’ll turn to the field and roar the Bhoys on with all the rest.

God bless you Glasgow Celtic, from desperation to celebration, it’s a story like no other.

 

 

 

 

The Mighty Atom

The Poorhouse in the 19^th Century was not a pleasant place. The austere  and daunting building which once stood on the outskirts of Millford in Donegal was built in 1846 and saw its share of misery in the dark years of the Great Hunger. As the century neared its end, poverty and ignorance remained endemic in Donegal and the Poorhouse was seldom less than full. In March 1891 a child was born to illiterate and poor parents in the Millford Poorhouse and they called him Patrick and that impoverished wee boy was to have a major impact on the history of a football club on the other side of the Irish channel. His family, desperate for work to give themselves some pride had heard there were jobs to be had on Clydeside and like so many Donegal folk through the years, crossed the sea to Glasgow.  Young Patrick came too.

In the 125 year history of Celtic Football Club a few players have been genuine footballing geniuses.  Patsy Gallagher was one such genius. When Willie Maley signed the skinny little Irishman from Clydebank Juniors in 1911 and introduced him to the first team, Jimmy Quinn, that bull of a centre-forward, who was Celtic’s leading scorer remarked, ‘Boss, you can’t put that wee lad onto the park, if you do it’ll be manslaughter.’  Quinn was right to be concerned as football in the early twentieth century could be brutal. Tackling was robust to say the least and teams knew that if a player limped off there would be no substitute to replace him, that novelty was still decades off. Skilful players were usually targeted from some ‘treatment’ from defenders who wore boots more suitable for working down a mine. You had to be tough or quick to survive the physical side of football in Edwardian Britain. However, despite Quinn’s concerns about ‘Wee Patsy,’ within a few weeks he was in the starting eleven for the visit of St Mirren to Celtic Park. The tough Centre forward, from the Celtic heartland of Croy, had his eyes opened on that blustery day as Gallagher gave defenders the slip with audacious dribbling and lightning speed. Celtic won 3-1 and a legend was about to be born.

Patsy Gallagher played with such grace, style and courage that those who saw him recognised that they were in the presence of greatness. Press reports of the time speak of the ‘Mighty Atom’ who could fool the best of defenders with his dribbling and feints and who possessed a shot of ferocious force for such a slight man. He also had an eye for the killer pass and his scoring prowess puts him sixth in Celtic’s all time goal scoring chart just behind his concerned team mate the ‘Mighty Quinn.’ It has been said that Patsy was like a combination of Jimmy Johnstone and Henrik Larsson, a creator and a finisher in one feisty, courageous package. His antics on the field were the stuff of legend and his arrival signalled the beginning of another golden era of Celtic domination of Scottish football. Within a year of his debut he was outstanding and scored as Celtic defeated a strong Clyde team 2-0 in the Scottish cup final of 1912. In Patsy’s 15 year career with Celtic he won six league titles four Scottish Cups, four Glasgow cups and eleven Glasgow charity cups. He played for the Northern Irish and Free State Irish teams in the days before FIFA told the two Associations to either join together or separate completely and stop picking players who had already played for the ‘other’ Ireland. He also represented the Scottish League.  But as most fans know football is about memories and not just counting medals. Patsy gave the Celtic supporters some incredible moments.

James E Hanley in his excellent book ‘The Story of Celtic’ (published in 1960) spoke of Patsy Gallagher in this manner…

‘It is hard to refrain from claiming that he was the greatest forward the Scottish game has ever seen. From the beginning, fresh from Clydebank Juniors, a stripling of seventeen, he caught the popular fancy with his unorthodox style, his inexhaustible treasury of tricks, his magical elusiveness expressed in uncatchable wriggles, slips, swerves, hops and famous 'hesitation' stops. Physically speaking, he should have been wafted off the field like thistledown. His small, fragile form seemed altogether out of place in First Division football. Only his supreme cleverness saved him from annihilation, for he had incredible pluck and tenacity and took alarming risks. For such a puny frame his stamina was phenomenal, and at the close of play he was worrying the opposition with the same degree of doggedness that had marked the opening minute.' (p. 89)

 Jimmy McGrory recounted his first Cup Final against Dundee in 1925 when as a young forward he saw ‘Peerless Patsy’ score perhaps the most audacious goal in Celtic history. Patsy raced at the packed Dundee defence, jinking past one tackle then hurdling another. When it seemed as if the packed defence must see him off he’d swerve past another defender until he was close to the goal. At last a robust challenge knocked him off balance and the defenders rushed at him as he fell to the turf. Incredibly Gallagher trapped the ball between his feet and somersaulted into the net to score an incredible goal! Hampden rose to a man for this exceptionally gifted footballer. They knew a genius when they saw one.

 

Off the field Patsy was a character with as much fire and devilment as he showed on it. His good friend and Rangers player Andy Cunningham begged him to play in the blue of Rangers in a charity game. Patsy was torn as he was real Celt and worried about his own supports feelings on the matter. Cunningham persuaded him that he should put pride aside and play for the blues after all his reputation would put thousands on the gate and as a good Christian he couldn’t refuse a charity? It is said that thousands attended the charity game to see Patsy in the blue of Rangers. Celtic fans were among them just to see what would happen. Patsy trotted out in the blue shirt of Rangers and the groans of the Celts were drowned out by the cheers of the Rangers fans. He played a blinder and dazzled the crowd with his skills. As the game ended the Celtic fans shook their heads as the teams began to leave the field. They stood looking in puzzlement though as Patsy began to remove his blue Rangers shirt in the centre of the field. Puzzlement turned to laughter and cheers when they saw that under his blue mud splattered shirt was the pristine Hoops of his beloved Celtic. Patsy had worn both shirts for the 90 minutes with the one he loved closest to his heart.

On another memorable occasion, the dictatorial Maley had the team in a plush spa hotel with orders to bed down early and avoid the Bar. Just to be sure no one broke the curfew, the Boss sat in the Hotel foyer watching the door. Knowing this Patsy, who fancied a pint in town, persuaded a chambermaid to fetch him some women’s clothes and make up. The slim Patsy then dressed as a woman, complete with a wig, and walked through the foyer, swaying boldly past the watching Maley. To his astonishment Maley stood like a gentleman and held the door for him as he left the Hotel and headed for the pub.

Patsy Gallagher deserves to be remembered among the very highest echelons of Celtic legends. This supreme footballer gave Celtic 15 dazzling years before Celtic announced he was retiring without bothering to tell him. It seems they wanted to save some money by getting rid of a loyal and dedicated Celt. This Celtic great, who once had poisoned toes because Celtic refused to buy him new boots forcing him to borrow a pair that were a size too small, shook his head at their parsimony and played for 6 more years at Falkirk. He was, in the press reports of the day, simply peerless, a player without equal in the game.

The great Patsy Gallagher died in the Summer of 1953 as Celtic were setting about winning the Coronation Cup. In every discussion Celtic fans have about who was the greatest ever Celtic player his name will be mentioned. Patsy was a fantastic footballer and if his genius was not captured on film it perhaps leaves us to ponder the testimony of those who saw him play all the more keenly. The waif of a boy who showed up at Celtic Park as a thin 17 year old and who dazzled the supporters for 15 wonderful years will not be forgotten by the Celtic faithful. Not bad for the baby born into poverty in the Millford Poorhouse all those years ago.

 Patsy Gallagher 1891-1953 Proud Celt, genius, Legend

 

 

 

History, Hoops and Hope

Philip Sheridan may not be a name familiar to many of you. He was the son of Irish immigrants to the USA and a General in the Union Army during the American Civil War. What Sheridan did at the Battle of Cedar Creek in 1864 should offer some hope to those of us who watched that painful display by Celtic in Kazakhstan this week. On a misty morning in October 1864 the Confederate Army attacked Union forces near Cedar Creek and inflicted serious casualties on them. They had crept forward under cover of the fog and hurled themselves onto the slumbering camp of the Union forces. Surprise was total and seven Union Divisions were mauled and retreated in disorder. That was when General Sheridan took matters into his own hands. He rode towards the distant sound of gunfire and met stragglers fleeing the Confederate advance. He ordered his men to halt the stragglers, by shooting some if necessary, and form a defensive line. Sheridan then rode into the thick of the confused battle famously rallying his flagging troops with the words "Come on back boys! Give 'em hell, God damn 'em! We'll make coffee out of Cedar Creek tonight!" The effect of General Sheridan’s appearance on the battlefield electrified the Union troops and the retreat was halted.  The Union Army was reinvigorated and turned to face the Confederates who were already confident of victory. The Confederate Army of General Early was stopped in its tracks and was never able to advance on Washington again. Abraham Lincoln commented that Sheridan had snatched victory from the jaws of defeat and ordered that a 100 gun salute be fired in Washington to honour of this brave son of County Cavan immigrants.

What has all of this got to do with Celtic I hear you say! Well, history teaches us that what looks like certain defeat can be turned around with the application of belief and organisation. Celtic's defeat in Kazakhstan was greeted with much negativity and some recrimination. It is, of course, only half time in this tie. Our club has always fought the odds and often snatched victory from the jaws of defeat, I recall Cologne beating us 2-0 in the 1990s and arriving in Glasgow with that typical German swagger. They left after a 3-0 defeat and their arrogance somewhat tempered. Way back in the 1960s, a useful St Etienne team beat Stein’s Celtic 2-0 in France. The 80,000 who turned up for the second leg saw Celtic rip the French side apart and beat them 4-0. We also routed the despicable Rapid Vienna 3-0 following a 1-3 reverse in Austria although those cheats used play-acting and lies to advance on that occasion. Few will forget the devastating destruction of Sporting Lisbon by a Tommy Burns inspired Celtic. A 2-0 defeat in Portugal was followed by a 5-0 rout at Celtic Park when fans and team fused and overcame the odds! Then there was last season when we were 1-3 down at home to Aberdeen with 20 minutes left to play.  Few will forget that comeback which was capped by an incredible overhead kick by Samaras in the last minute.

Of course many fans are rightly angry and entitled to criticise team selection, strategy and formations used in the debacle in Kazakhstan. Of course certain players didn’t perform and require a size 10 up the backside after letting everyone down. And yes, the policy of selling our top players and not replacing them before vital European ties is one which requires major scrutiny. It gambled with our European future and looks increasingly like the parsimonious biscuit tin mentality of the past. All of this is open to valid criticism and the fans are right to ask why they part with hard earned money to buy season tickets and follow the club when the Board seems determined to short change them when it comes to replacing stars who have been sold. It is fair to say that Hooper and Wilson wanted to leave but nonetheless replacements of equal stature should have been lined up. The Champions League is our field of dreams. Last season, it kept us going through the long, dark Scottish winter and provided us with some memories which will never fade. It’s where this club should be and where our fans deserve to be and every effort should be made by Celtic FC to ensure it happens.

And so our forces retreat to Glasgow like the battered Army of General Sheridan all those years ago in the Shenandoah Valley. Next Wednesday we will gather at Celtic Park and try to turn the setback we endured in Kazakhstan into a victory which ranks with the best we have achieved in Europe in recent years. The odds are high but we all know that the Celtic supporters will rally and get right behind the team. European nights under the lights at Celtic Park have a magical quality which makes you feel that great things are possible. Who could have predicted Celtic defeating Barcelona, (twice) Juventus, Lyon, Porto, Benfica and the then reigning European Champions, AC Milan at Celtic Park in recent years? When our crowd roars and our players rise to the occasion anything seems possible. So when kick off time arrives next Wednesday, forget the criticism, however justified, and get on with what we Celtic fans do best and that is supporting out team with 100% commitment.  Bring the thunder which inspires our players and awes the opposition. Then maybe, just maybe the dream of playing in the Champions League can come true again.

Joan of Arc, the teenage girl who rallied France and helped defeat the English is credited with saying, ‘All battles are first won or lost in the mind.’ We Celtic supporters and our team are not admitting defeat yet because we know from long experience that it isn’t over until it’s over! My message to our players and fans is a simple one and if I may paraphrase General Sheridan, who once snatched victory from the jaws of defeat on a bloody battlefield long ago…

‘"Come on back bhoys! Give 'em hell, God damn 'em! We'll make the Champions League yet!’