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jim craig: memories of my celtic debut
Jim Craig (Oct 2010)
FORTY-FIVE years ago this week, on October 7, 1965, I made my first-team debut. By any standard, it had been a pretty quick rise to the top.
I had signed for Celtic on January 7, 1965, spent the remainder of that season and the first couple of months of the new season in the reserves before getting my chance against Go-Ahead Deventer of Holland in a first round, second leg tie in the European Cup-Winners’ Cup on October 7 that same year.
As I was a dental student at Glasgow University at the time, I trained in the evenings and it was after the usual session on Tuesday, October 6 that I was informed by Jock Stein that I would be playing the following night.
I went home in a bit of a dream and slept badly that night, although as Wednesday morning was taken up by lectures and the afternoon by labs, I had little time to think about the match.
Around the back of five, I left the Dental Hospital – at that time in Renfrew Street, behind the present building in Sauchiehall Street – to head for Celtic Park.
This involved a walk down through the city centre to Argyle Street, to the bus stop underneath the ‘Hielanman’s Umbrella’, where I caught the No.62 to Auchenshuggle.
I got off at the bus stop underneath the railway bridge over London Road (just to the west side of the main concourse), managed to convince the doorman, Bill Peacock, that I was actually a member of the playing staff and joined the rest of the players in the snooker room, where the level of noise and the speed of the patter – especially for a newcomer – was quite overwhelming.
Just about half-an-hour before kick-off, the Boss came into the room, at which point everyone shut up as he read out the team for the game.
When my name was mentioned, I was really pleased to see that nearly everyone caught my eye and winked or nodded their congratulations.
It was my first experience of the generosity of spirit which was endemic among the players of that period.
Unfortunately, I cannot recall too many details about the match. Celtic had won the first leg 6-0 in Holland, so in the return, Deventer packed nearly eleven players into a defensive role, making life difficult for us and rather spoiling the fans’ chances of seeing some adventurous play.
There were some moments during the evening, however, that I do recall with some clarity.
Firstly, I noticed that one or two of the older players went into the bath area just before the off and took a sip from a little chocolate-coloured bottle on the window ledge.
This, I later discovered, contained brandy and the players apparently took a sip to steady their nerves.
Secondly, I was quite surprised that many of the players had specific ways of preparation that could only be described as idiosyncratic.
These included putting on right sock and boot before left or vice versa, not putting on shirt and/or shorts until final moment or walking round with boots on feet but not tying the laces until the last moment.
Thirdly, I was astonished that one man’s voice could carry so far from the dug-out, as Jock Stein seemed less than delighted with the overall performance and let us know.
Lastly – although you will realize that this fact only came to life with the benefit of hindsight – it was the first occasion that the Lisbon defence played together.
During the next few years, the back five of Simpson, Craig and Gemmell, Murdoch, McNeill and Clark was in situ at most of Celtic’s major moments but that night of October 7, 1965 was the inaugural performance. And to be honest, a 1-0 victory was scant reward for some hard work.
Becoming a Bhoy: Jim Craig
By: Mark Henderson on 02 Feb, 2012 09:12Source: Celticfc.net
WHATEVER happens in a player’s Celtic career, the moment they signed for the club remains vivid and memorable, particularly for those who were realising a lifetime ambition.
So throughout the rest of this season, the Celtic Viewis speaking to some of those who have donned the Hoops, to hear their memories about arriving in Paradise and their first impressions. And we´ll bring you the interviews on the official Celtic website too.
To start this new series we heard a more unusual account of joining Celtic from Lisbon Lion, Jim Craig.
Not many players are recruited from the university grounds into Paradise, and then remain in their studies whilst carving out a successful playing career, particularly during that era, but that is exactly the route the flying full-back took when he penned his contract on January 7, 1965.
He would go on to make 231 appearances during seven wonderful years at the club, winning every trophy possible, including, of course, the European Cup in 1967 – a feat which bestowed him legend status among the Celtic support.
Here is his story of Becoming a Bhoy…
So how did you end up joining Celtic during your studies at Glasgow University?
There was a guy called Joe Connor who was a scout who lived close to me, and he was a great fan of mine and was on to Sean Fallon. When I left school, I heard stories of people finding the first year at university very difficult, and I was quite determined I was going to do better. So Celtic made me an offer in 1961 to sign and I said no. However,I played for a season in a third team which they had at that time. It was made up of youth players and kids and all that kind of stuff. I certainly never got paid anything at all for playing for them. I just turned up on a Saturday and on the basis I never trained with them either. I did my own training.
So I did that for a season but at the end of that season, it was really getting tough as second and third year at university are quite hard-going in terms of time as you are doing Saturday mornings as well. I dropped out for a year-and-a-half and then started playing for the university team and Joe Connor came to see me play but I didn’t know about it. He reported to Sean Fallon that I was back playing and doing well and that he should have a look at me, so at some point Sean came along and did just that.
Just before Christmas in 1964, he took me up to Celtic Park for a chat. They didn’t want me to do anything at the time as they wanted me to mull it over so I went away and thought about it over Christmas and I went up on January 7, 1965 and signed on at Celtic Park. Sean Fallon did all the paperwork. When I got home my father said to me, ‘So you signed then?’ and I said ‘Yeah, I did.’ He said ‘Good for you,’ and asked how much I getting a week and I told him I was getting eight pounds a week. At that time I was only on 25 shillings a week from my parents for getting through university and everything, so I was quite a wealthy young man!
My dad asked me what had gone on, and I said, ‘There was an older man there smoking a pipe, and he said that was Jimmy McGrory. He shook hands with me said welcome to the club but I had never seen him before, to be quite honest, and no-one had introduced me.´ And that was how I signed for Celtic, quite an unusual story in many ways.
Although you had already met a Celtic legend, and future team-mate when you had been involved with the Scottish schoolboys?
Most people at that time left school at 16 and never went further than that. I played in my fifth and sixth year at school for the Scottish schoolboys, and the only game they played at that time was against England. I played in 1960 at Burnley and captained the team in 1961 one night at Celtic Park, and it was the same night that Rangers were playing Wolverhampton Wanderers in the semi-final of the European Cup-Winners’ Cup at Ibrox. Before the game, a Celtic player who had also played for the Scottish schools team just a few years previously came in and was introduced to us. It was Billy McNeill, who at that time was playing for Celtic. He doesn’t remember that as I was just another player but that was the first time I had ever met him, and just over six years later we were in the same team and winning in Lisbon. So that was quite unusual.
With the incredible success which followed, your timing in joining the club proved to be impeccable.
Dead right! Although I only played that season in 1961 and ’62, I always kept in touch, and I had met quite a number of the guys during that year. These were the days before the Celtic View, but I’m pretty sure I did play a couple of reserve games, if not more than that, so I had met guys on the periphery of the team and also remember having the odd training session during the holidays with the first team – so I knew most people. It was a really good time to go in as Rangers had been totally dominant and Celtic were under the cosh all the time. We hadn’t won a trophy from 1957, when we won the League Cup final in the 7-1 game, to 1965. That’s eight years without a trophy, which is nearly as bad as the 1990s.
What was your family’s reaction to penning the contract?
My dad was very pleased although he wasn’t allowed to say too much as my mother was very displeased. She was quite happy that her son was doing dentistry and wanted her son to be a dentist, and didn’t want him to get involved in that nasty game of football. She wasn’t all that fussy about it. I think it gradually worked on her, though, when she would ask me to take her to the shops and everybody would be saying, ‘Hi Jim, how you doing.’ I think she quite appreciated it – although she would never admit it.
Although your dad was a Hibernian supporter, you grew up a Celtic fan, so how much did it mean to you to be joining the club?
In those days every kid wanted to play football. For someone to get a chance to play for the team you always supported was just fantastic and my dad was behind me all the way. When we were playing Hibs, he just used to say, ‘Treat us kindly.’ And we did give Hibs one or two doings in those days, although just after I left they beat us2-1 in the League Cup final.
Was it difficult to combine your dentistry studies and football career at Celtic?
Yes. I was piggy in the middle. The football guys were annoyed when I was a wee bit late for training and the dental hospital guys were a bit annoyed as I was sneaking away to get to training. I didn’t have a car either, so I was just getting everywhere by public transport, so it was a tough old year-and-a-half but I was glad that I stuck in. I used to work even when I was playing and the boss was quite happy for me to work as I wasn’t in the pub or the bookies. It wasa remarkable time to join the club and was quite unusual that we got a manager in who knew what he was talking about.
And later that year, you made your first appearance for the club against Go-Ahead Deventer. Was it a nervous moment?
It was September of the same year and I was quite lucky as Jock gave me my chance, and the rest of the season I started dropping in and out before I got my place. It was quite funny as I took the bus to get there and on the bus, fans were discussing the team and none of them had heard of me. So I found it quite funny! I had been told the night before that I was playing. Obviously, I was uptight the night before the game. When they were planning the game and the boss was putting things up on the board, I used to sit there the nights before games, and think to myself that won’t work and I used to have this feeling in the pit of my stomach, but the closer I got to the game on the day, I felt okay. But that didn’t stop you being nervous the night before, even though you knew you were going to feel alright half-an-hour before the game.
After walking out the doors at Celtic Park that first day, could you have ever envisaged achieving that level of success?
Not at all. In the year I signed, Jock Stein came in a few weeks later and that made a colossal difference as Jimmy McGrory was a very self-effacing man and Bob Kelly basically made all the major decisions, whereas when Jock came in he knew who was boss and had a great presence. And you were under no illusions as to who was in charge in the dressing room. He was just very impressive in how he analysed the game and told you what he wanted you to do. This all happened just a few weeks after I got there, so it made a real difference for me. He encouraged me to come forward. He said to me, ‘You realise the way you play, coming forward, is chancing it as if things don’t work out, but you’ve just got to have the confidence in your ability, and if you make a mistake, put it behind you, and if I’m happy with it, that’s all you need to bother about – it’s me you need to satisfy.’ And I was very happy to do so. And I know that Tam Gemmell got a boost with Jock coming in as well, by just getting the chance to come forward.
And as a Lisbon Lion, the answer is probably obvious, but what is your enduring highlight of your Celtic career?
That was such an iconic game for Celtic. At that moment we stamped Celtic Football Club’s name in history, not just in Scottish history but in European history. As soon as we won that game and showed people that a team outside of the Latin countries could win, and apart from AC Milan two years later, for the next 17 yeas all the winners came from northern Europe. It seemed we had been the catalyst for this amazing transformation. When you see it in those terms it was a wonderful game to be involved in and it’s amazing that 44 years later I still get stopped in the street, asking how it was to run out in Lisbon.
PROFILE OF A LISBON LION
(By David Potter from KeepTheFaith website)
Once again, exclusively for Keep The Faith, Celtic author and historian David Potter profiles a Celtic Legend, this time, Lisbon Lion, Jim Craig.
David writes:
Jim Craig is an unusual type of Celtic football player. Born in 1943 of undeniable middle class origin, Jim became a dentist at the same time as he was beginning to make a name for himself as a Celtic footballer.
Jim had also played other sports at Glasgow University , notably athletics where he was a fine long jumper. He had already cut his teeth (as it were!) with Celtic with a few first team games, including an unsuccessful Scottish Cup Final Replay at the time he was sitting his Finals in Dentistry at Glasgow University . Indeed, he had to miss out on Celtic’s tour of North America to do so, much to the annoyance of Jock Stein.
Season 1965-66 had seen Jim Craig and Ian Young vying for Celtic’s right back spot. Craig had made his debut in a European Game against a quaintly named Dutch side called ‘Go Ahead Deventer’, but frankly there was little to choose between himself and the excellent Young. However, Jim did his cause no favours by being sent off in a European Cup Winners Cup game against Dinamo Kiev.
The tour that Jim Craig missed threw up an excellent full back partnership of Tommy Gemmell and Willie O’Neill – a successful combination that lasted half way through season 1966-67, until a defeat at Tannadice on Hogmanay. There was little wrong with Willie O’Neill, but Stein felt that Gemmell was better on the left, so Craig was given the nod for the right back spot over Ian Young, whose moment had now passed.
Craig grabbed the opportunity and of course played his full part in 1967 and all its glory, although he really should have had a roasting from Big Jock about Celtic’s equalising goal in Lisbon , for he was forward and passed to Gemmell. One of the full backs should have been back covering! In the circumstances, though, this technical imperfection was overlooked, as might Jim’s part in Inter Milan’s penalty kick!
Jim had played his best game in the 0-0 draw against Dukla in Prague , but in so doing he picked up a flu virus and had to be isolated from the rest of the team on the way back home. The Scottish Cup Final against Aberdeen was only four days away! He recovered and was absolutely outstanding that day at Hampden, as Celtic won their 19th Scottish Cup by beating the Dons 2-0.
In autumn 1967, Jim suffered badly in the aftermath of the Kiev disaster and the South American fiasco (although funnily enough it was during this time that he won his one and only Scottish cap against Wales in November 1967) with injuries and ill health. But his recovery coincided with that marvellous spring of 1968 when Celtic swept all of Scotland aside and Rangers cracked under the pressure of it all.
Jim had now picked up the nickname “Cairney”, from a BBC series about a Glasgow school teacher called “This Man Craig” where “Craig” was played by John Cairney, now that well known Celtic historian and portrayer of Robbie Burns. Which man was the more flattered by that comparison?
By now the word “classy” was also being used of Jim Craig. A hard but fair tackler, a good distributor of the ball and playing his part in that great Celtic side of 1968-69, Craig really should have been given more Scottish caps. But he was often outshone by the more extroverted Tommy Gemmell, and like John Clark, perhaps suffered from having a less exuberant personality than some of the other members of the side.
Yet in the month of the three trophies (April 1969), Craig scored one of his rare goals in the League Cup victory over Hibs on that sunny and glorious spring day when God gave every impression of being a Celtic supporter, for there was little wrong with the world.
In that same summer, Jim married Elizabeth Farrell, daughter of then Celtic Director Jim Farrell.
Jim then played for Celtic for the next three seasons, winning Leagues and Cups galore, although under pressure from two very talented youngsters called Davie Hay and Danny McGrain.
All this time, Jim was only a part-time footballer, for he insisted that he wanted to practice his dentistry. No doubt there will be Glasgow people now in their forties who boast that as children, Jim Craig of Celtic removed their teeth!
In 1972 soon after the “Dixie Deans” Cup Final of 1972 in which he starred, Jim surprised and disappointed his many fans by saying he was giving up the game and going to South Africa. South Africa was deservedly disapproved of in those days for its evil apartheid regime and many of us wrote to query his decision. But Craig was far too liberal and intelligent a man to approve of such racial discrimination, and he soon returned to finish his career with Sheffield Wednesday.
In later years, Jim has been a fine contributor to the Celtic View and Celtic TV, as he has continued his career as a journalist. He has also written a few books on Celtic and one or two on Scottish Sport in general. Jim’s son is a great rugby player and has represented Scotland. One gets the impression that Willie Maley (who was also an athlete and a cyclist) would have approved of Jim Craig.
Jim Craig’s contribution to Celtic FC is immense, and he has one European Cup medal, six Scottish League medals, four Scottish Cup medals and three Scottish League Cup medals to prove it.
Although he was perhaps not quite as great a full back as Alec McNair or Danny McGrain, he nevertheless is well worth a mention in the same breath. And that, really, says it all!
Lisbon Lion Jim Craig reflects on that special day 45 years ago when Jock Stein’s men ruled Europe
The Herald 25 May 2012
It is easy to do, we all do it occasionally and when we do, the end product is often entirely wrong.
I am talking about “reminiscing”: the act of, as the dictionary puts it, “recollecting and telling of past experiences and events”.
The human mind is a very complex area and, when it comes to dealing with matters of the past, it appears to want to recall only the good moments. Certainly, when I think back to my own childhood, the sun always seems to have been shining with the rain clouds far away. Unfortunately, the climatic statistics of that era would tend to disagree with that recollection.
Just occasionally, though, statistics tend to support some of our recollections. For those of a certain age, the decade of the 1960s is fondly recalled for several reasons, including music and perhaps the Scottish domestic football scene. Now, whether one likes the songs of that era is very much a question of taste but, as the accompanying table shows, a number of Scotland’s clubs did the nation proud with their performances in European competition during that particular decade.
The jewel in the crown, of course – and I realise I could be accused of bias – was Celtic’s winning of the European Cup in 1967, which occurred 45 years ago today. This match has been the subject of much attention through the years and the incidents are well known, so I will merely deal with those which were pertinent to me or which I specifically recall.
The first occurred when both teams came out of their dressing-rooms and gathered at the foot of the steps leading up to the pitch. We had already seen the Inter players while assessing the state of the playing surface in the days before the match but this was the first time that we had been up close.
Frankly, they looked fantastic, bronzed and oiled round the face, their jerseys, shorts and socks of such quality as to be straight off a Milan catwalk. We, by contrast, having been occasionally exposed to the sun over the previous two days, displayed skin colours ranging from pale pink to blotchy red and most of us had our hair cut short, not quite the fashion of the time. If the contest had been decided on appearances, they would have won hands down.
A certain penalty decision was the first crucial moment of the match and I must confess to being involved. My aim was quite clear. My immediate opponent, Cappellini, had come off the wing to the inside-right channel and was bearing down towards the penalty box. Now, I had already worked out that he was all left foot so it did not take a high IQ to decide he was going to pull the ball to his left at some point before the shot for goal. I merely timed my run slightly across his path so, when we unsurprisingly collided, I was astonished when the referee awarded a penalty. In fact, as the game footage shows, I was claiming for a goal-kick in our favour.
In my opinion, it was, and remains, one of the worst decisions in the history of European football. At the interval, the Boss [Jock Stein] merely said: “Forget it, we’re doing okay, just keep the pressure on.” After the match, though, I was waiting for the verbal coup de grace, and he did not disappoint me. “You were careless, Cairney, you were careless.” However, the slight smile of victory as he said it softened the criticism.
Next up was the equaliser, in which I also played a part, laying on the square pass for Tam Gemmell. Shortly before that, I had given an even better one into the path of Bobby Murdoch’s right foot, who, most surprisingly, let it run on to his left and was then crowded out. When I chinned him about it, he told me that he had been suffering from a “dead leg” on his right, hence his reluctance to shoot. I could not argue with that.
Gemmell always mentions that he was screaming his head off as he came forward and that I could not hear him. Of course I could. My mum could hear him and she was back in Glasgow. One Italian defender had already come out to block any shot from me and all I was waiting for was another to do the same. Once the second one rushed out, the pass went sideways and Tam came forward to toe-poke it into the net (I only say that because I know it annoys him).
That goal gave us a real boost; we increased the tempo even further and it came as no surprise when Stevie Chalmers got on the end of a low cross (just as we had rehearsed numerous times in training) to knock in the winner.
It had been a wonderful occasion for the whole team and we all look back on it with fondness. My main memory of the match, though, had nothing to do with me, with the near constant siege on the Inter goalmouth or even the goals themselves. It came when our goalkeeper “Faither” Simpson, raced out of his goal to deal with a breakaway attack by the Italians, reached the ball some distance out from his penalty area and just as the leading attacker got there, back-heeled it across to John Clark and safety.
It might have looked cool and calm but believe you me, at that moment – and I have spoken to all of them about it – the defence nearly had a collective heart attack. Even when I think of it today, I cannot help but shudder.
Every article or book about the side that day mentions the fact that we were all born within a 30-mile radius of Celtic Park. The reason for that specific number was the presence on the pitch of Bobby Lennox, born in Saltcoats.
Yet if we consider the birthplaces of the other 15 players who made up Celtic’s first-team squad that season – Simpson (Glasgow), Craig (Glasgow), Gemmell (Craigneuk), Murdoch (Bothwell), McNeill (Bellshill), Clark (Bellshill), Johnstone (Viewpark), Wallace (Kirkintilloch), Chalmers (Glasgow), Auld (Glasgow), Fallon (Blantyre), O’Neill (Glasgow), Gallagher (Glasgow), Hughes (Coatbridge), McBride (Glasgow) – you will notice that they were all born within a 10-mile radius of Celtic Park.
Can these days ever return for Scottish football? Well, there would have to be an input from several sources and the following scenario is meant to be simplistic rather than detailed.
First, parents must try to encourage their offspring to adopt a healthy lifestyle right from the beginning and take part in any sporting endeavour on offer.
Second, schools and education authorities must recognise the importance of physical education and make it an essential – and regular – part of the curriculum.
Third, local authorities must try to use some of their admittedly stretched budgets to build or maintain the indoor training areas which are essential in the Scottish climate for the young, and the not so young, to practise and improve their skills and fitness.
Finally, the Scottish government, whomsoever that may be, must take the initiative in such ventures, not only making them a crucial part of their plans for health and fitness, but provide the necessary finance
My Own Story 1948-1965
https://www.football50.co.uk/my-own-story-1948-65/#more-373
jimctnMy own path through the football ranks was quite an unusual one. My first school was St Anthony’s Primary School in Govan, a rather old fashioned building – the toilets were outside and had no roof! – with a playground bounded at the top end by the gable end of a tenement building. That particular gable end gave me one of my best memories as a kid. The year above me were holding a cricket ball-throwing contest and one laddie’s throw slammed into the wall about five feet off the ground, the first time anyone in the history of the school had managed such a long throw.
Everyone was cheering like mad but suddenly the celebrations were cut short as cracks appeared in the plaster covering the outside of the wall and then big bits of the stuff fell off! Needless to say, sports day was abandoned!
gerardianAngelsAfter St Anthony’s, I moved on to St Gerard’s Senior Secondary, just along the road. St Gerard’s was a big school, with about 120 boys – and, of course, girls, although until 4th year, we were separated – in each of the first three years and a number of well-known names received their secondary education there. Future Celtic Chairman Brian Quinn was about five years ahead of me, as was Joe McBride; centre-forward Ian Lochhead was two years ahead and possibly the biggest name of all, Billy Connelly, was in my year.
St Anthony’s did not have a school football team, so when I started at St Gerard’s and discovered that they did have them, I was really delighted. There were yearly teams for 1st, 2nd and 3rd year and I made the team each year and also captained the sides from the centre-half position. In 4th, 5th and 6th year, there was just the one team and I played in it for my final three years at the school.
Govan Knight
In my first year, after we had played a match at Pirie Park, our home ground in Drumoyne, just on the outskirts of Govan, most of the team wandered over to the slightly bigger pitch to watch the 3rd year side. They had a most important game against Govan High – an encounter which we all took seriously as a sort-of mini Old Firm match. It was a good contest and the opposing centre-forward caught my eye, a fairly slim guy who put himself about a bit, all elbows and aggression. The Govan High players involved in our game were just beside us and I asked one of them who the centre-forward was?
“Alex Ferguson” was the reply.
The boy looked a promising prospect. I often wonder what became of him?
Young Yogi
It was a different world in many ways in those days. People did not travel too much and when they did, most folk used public transport, as cars were not plentiful, at least among the families of pupils at St Gerard’s. One story might illustrate this. For the first three years, we only played sides from the city of Glasgow but that changed in the senior team, who were entered into the Scottish Cup. One day, the players in the team were standing round one of the teachers’ staff rooms, waiting for the master in charge of the side to tell us who we had been drawn against. Eventually, he came out carrying a slip of paper. “We’ve got a home match against St Pat’s Coatbridge” he declared and then tried to give us a boost, “we’ll have a right good chance, don’t worry about it”.
I’m not sure that I was ‘worried about it’. What was really bothering me was the fact that I did not have a clue where Coatbridge was? My Mum’s family was in and around the Govan area; my paternal grandparents were in Leith. I had been to coastal resorts all over the country but Coatbridge was not one of them, so where was it? Thank goodness it was a home match…. they would have to come to us!
On the day of the cup tie, a bus pulled up outside Pirie Park and the players came off. They all looked pretty normal except for one who could have passed for a giant. He was about six feet in height and was built in proportion. I was in my fourth year at the time and this was my first season in the senior side where I was holding down the right-back slot. What a relieved man I was when the teams lined up and I saw that the giant was playing centre-forward for St Pat’s. My own immediate opponent was at least a foot shorter!
Then when the game got underway, the giant took over, stamping his authority on the proceedings. St Pat’s won 6-0 and the giant scored all six of them, his runs through the middle quite unstoppable. It was a very chastened squad of St Gerard’s players who lined up at the end of the game to congratulate the opposition, especially the giant, who turned out to be a very pleasant laddie off the pitch. It had a bad morning for my team but meeting John ‘Yogi’ Hughes for the first time made it quite a memorable occasion.
Cesar – and Lynn the Leap
I picked up representative honours during this period, firstly for Glasgow Schools against Bradford Schools on a couple of occasions then for the Scottish Schools under-18 side. We played the English Schools side two years running. The first match was at Turf Moor, the ground of Burnley FC, although we stayed in Preston, where we had the privilege of meeting the great Tom Finney. Unfortunately, we lost that one 2-1 but a year later had a fine 1-0 at Celtic Park, where I captained the side from the centre-half role, as a certain Ian Young was at right back.
In the dressing-room before the game, the selectors brought in a 21-year old star who had played in this match a few years previously and was now holding down a place in one of Scotland’s top teams. He was introduced to us and went round the dressing room to shake the hand of each and every player. And that was how I met Billy McNeill for the first time.
I met another star that year of 1961. I made the Scottish Schools Athletic squad – in the triple jump – for the triangular contest between Wales, Scotland and England, held in the Maindy Stadium in Cardiff. Unfortunately, I finished last of the six in my event but the better of the two Welshman, who was built like a tank and went by the name of Lynn Davies, was a particularly pleasant guy; Three years later, in the Tokyo Olympic Games, that same boy won the gold medal in the long jump!
Conflicts of Interest
A good friend of mine, Joe Connor, who was also a Celtic scout, was checking my progress and was keen to take me to Parkhead. I was equally keen but I had been accepted to start a five-year dentistry course at Glasgow University, had heard the usual tales of guys dropping out because they did not put enough work in and did not want to become another one. At the same time, the call from Celtic was a very flattering one, which every Celtic fan like myself would be flattered to receive. In the end, I accepted the invitation but played as an amateur without obligation. That way, I could train whenever I got the chance and played quite a few games in that season of 1961-62 in Celtic’s third team which won the combined Reserve League.
The following season, though, I had to drop out. Second year dentistry was tough, a long trawl through anatomy, physiology and biochemistry, classes all morning, labs all afternoon plus another on Saturday morning. The workload left little time for any concentrated training and I did not play at all that year – for any official team. I managed to keep training about three or four times a week; this consisted of a four-mile run if I felt in the mood, or a quick two-mile belt round the outside of Bellahouston Park if I felt lazy. To be honest, the latter runs were more frequent. Not very interesting but the stamina work was to stand me in good stead later on when the role of attacking full-back became more common.
On some Saturday afternoons, I tied my laces together, hung my boots over my shoulder and stood beside the dressing-rooms in the same park. Some teams usually had an absentee and I got a game for a variety of teams; I also got a boost to my ego as I was often asked to sign for the side afterwards!
I started playing properly again at the beginning of season 1964-65 and made the first team at Glasgow University. The standard was pretty good, the training was well thought out and our pitch at Garscadden was one of the best I ever played on. The team did well and I picked up a cap for the Scotland University side. In recent years, Glasgow University, like other educational institutions, has seen the need to raise money, so these pitches are now a fine housing estate.
For some years after Sunday mass, it had become the norm for Joe Connor, my Dad and I to chat about the football scene, with Joe particularly pleased I was playing again. What I did not know was that he had been watching some of my matches and had recommended me again to Celtic. Just after the New Year of 1965, Joe arrived at my parent’s house and informed me that Celtic wanted to offer me a contract. I was secretly pleased, as I had thought I had missed my chance at senior level. By then, I was halfway through my fourth year and felt that I could cope with whatever was thrown at me and spare some time for training. Mum wasn’t keen but Dad was quite blunt; “there are a lot of dentists, son, but not everyone gets the chance to sign for Celtic!”. That was exactly my own feelings, so I decided to take the offer. And as my Dad, born and brought up in Leith, was a dedicated Hibbie, those words from his mouth were really special!
At Last
So, on 7th January 1965, I walked from the Dental Hospital, – in Renfrew Street, just to the north of Sauchiehall Street – down to the Heilan’man’s Umbrella in Argyle Street to catch a 62 bus to Auchenshuggle, got off in London Road at the bottom of the large area for cars outside Celtic Park and made my way up to the ground, where Joe Connor was waiting for me.
This should have been one of the special occasions in my life but in reality, while the circumstances were exciting, the surroundings were disappointing. Celtic Park in those days was rather drab, the office area small and uninspiring, the surroundings dark, the lighting poor. The proceedings were handled by Sean Fallon, Joe Connor was also present and we were joined by Celtic manager Jimmy McGrory. I had read much about the achievements of this man as a free-scoring centre-forward, some of whose records are unsurpassed to this day. The rather squat figure with the bull neck still gave testimony to the strength and power he must have brought to his game. More surprising was the diffident, almost laid-back approach to the job of manager, which contrasted sharply with the heads of various departments within the Dental Hospital, my only means of comparison at the time.
The wage offered was £8 a week. Now, this might today seem hardly awe-inspiring but as a fourth-year dental student I was receiving 25 shillings (£1.25 ) a week from my parents, so things were looking up. I would be able to buy two coffees when I went on a date!
“Unusual” Handshakes Seal the Deal
Once all the papers were signed, I was taken in to meet the various members of the Board. I was firstly introduced to Chairman Bob Kelly, who held out his left hand – reversed – for me to shake. Later, I discovered that he had had a withered right hand since birth and always shook hands that way, but on that January evening, it totally confused me and I gripped his hand with both of mine, just to be on the safe side.
Next up was Desmond White, the Treasurer, who also put out his left hand in exactly the same manner. To say I was astonished was putting it mildly; I was beginning to think it must be a club custom. I later discovered that Mr White had been caught on the right arm by an aircraft propeller during the war hence his use of the left hand as well. Whatever, the reason, my bewilderment must have shown on my face. When I met the third director, a very jovial man called Tom Devlin, he started to put his left hand out then burst out laughing as he extended his right. The other director present, Jimmy Farrell, also found my reaction amusing and he congratulated me on my joining the club. In later years, he would play a big role in my life.
So that was it, I was a fully fledged Celtic player and the following evening, I returned for my first training session and a real surprise! Our sessions with the University team had been held at Westerlands near Anniesland Cross – now also a housing estate – and were handled by coaches who were usually graduates of Physical Education from Jordanhill College. They were well-structured, we got plenty of ball work and I thoroughly enjoyed them.
Laps of Labour
Imagine my shock, then, when I arrived at Parkhead for my first training session and found that all we did was track work. This seldom varied. We started with a quick lap of 440 yards then walked a lap; next a two-lap run (880 yards) and this was also followed by a walked lap; then 4 x 220 yards sprints, walking the other 220 yards in each lap; 8 x 100 yards sprints down the straights, walk the bends; then four laps of 50 yards sprint followed by 50 yards walk. And that was it. Requests to the coach or trainer for a ball were always met with the same response: “Och! You’ll get enough of that on a Saturday!”
Since the coach stood at the bottom of the tunnel and the only lights put on were the ones underneath the main stand, quite a few unwilling trainers ran down the home straight a damn sight quicker that they went down the back straight. However, there were a number of good trainers at these evening sessions which made them very competitive.
Good trainers many of these lads might have been but not all of them made the grade at Celtic Park for one reason or another. Frank McCarron, who captained the Scottish Schoolboys Under-18 side the year after me only played one match for Celtic before moving to Carlisle where a badly-broken leg affected his career adversely. There was Gerry Sweeney, a feisty wing-half ( a midfielder in modern parlance) who went on to have a good spell with Bristol City and Tony Taylor, a very quick left-winger who had a spell at Crystal Palace. At a time when few young players had cars, Tony had bought himself a Reliant Robin, a three-wheel vehicle which has become much better known than it was then thanks to the adventures of Del Boy and Rodney in Only Fools and Horses.
Tony was a little embarrassed by having a three-wheeler and when he brought it to training, to avoid receiving some stick from the senior players, he left it behind the flats on the south side of London Road opposite Celtic Park. However, none of the younger part-timers gave him any abuse; after every evening training session we broke the record for the number of people who could pack into a Reliant Robin and got a run into town! Some players in our group at night had already played for the first team, guys like John Cushley and Jim Brogan.
My rival for the right-back berth in the reserves – and already the incumbent – was a laddie from Lanarkshire, John Halpin, a nice guy who never showed any reaction to another right-back joining the club. Initially, he and I shared the right-back slot, or I played centre-half but as the season drew to a close, I seemed to be the first choice at full-back. In those days, Celtic had both a reserve side and a combined reserve side, so between the two the young players had plenty of matches to play, especially in the last few weeks of the season.
Before one of those matches, I had what some people might call a run-in with the new manager Jock Stein. It was before a night match, in chilly conditions, so I decided on extra coverage. Back then, my physique was of the slim variety, only 11 stone 7 lbs at 6 feet 1 inch and I took some time to get warm even though a lot of effort was being put in. My answer was a tee-shirt under the strip, which not only kept me warm initially but seemed to ‘even-out’ the body heat generated during the match. Without realising it, I was imitating the players on mainland Europe, many of whom wear an under-shirt, even in the warmest of weather.
Anyway, on this particular night, I was pulling on the tee-shirt when I heard a voice behind me say “hey, hey, hey”. I turned round; it was Jock Stein. “What’s that”, he said. “A tee-shirt”, I replied. “Aye, but what are you going to do with it?”, he asked. “Wear it under my strip”. His answer was unequivocal : “Not in this damn team you won’t” and the tee-shirt was handed to the trainer.
This was my first experience of Jock Stein’s authority and his occasional intransigence which, at the beginning of his Parkhead career, was used to supplement his authority. Nobody else among the reserves wore a tee-shirt, so I couldn’t either, even if it might have helped me play more comfortably or more effectively. The manager was the Boss, the players obeyed or else. That was the system of the time and Jock Stein had come up through the system. This trifling incident was merely a flick of managerial power, to show not only me – but the others as well – who was in charge. It succeeded in doing so.
Kelly’s Cull
As the season drew to a close, there was great excitement around the club as the first-team headed towards the Scottish Cup Final. For the reserve squad, however, and the younger players, there were other considerations. The papers were full of stories that Jock Stein was going to cut the number of players at the club and we all pondered our future. In those days, if a club wished to retain players, they had to be informed by 30th April.
By 29th April, there had been no communication from the club and I was getting worried. My Dad said that he thought they put the list in the morning papers and mentioned that there a guy outside a pub just along the way from us in Paisley Road West who would be selling the early editions of these papers last thing at night. So he and I set out along the road and walked up and down outside the pub for what seemed an eternity before the guy appeared.
I was across the road in a flash, bought the paper, turned to the sports section and saw the headline ‘Celtic Free 20 Players’. I quickly checked the list – my name was not there! I then checked the list of retained players and there it was, although not in an easily found place. The names were not in alphabetical order and mine was second last, with Gerry Sweeney behind me.
Still, I had made it and felt fortunate; but in a situation like this there are always winners and losers and these guys failed to make it and unfortunately, had to try and find a club elsewhere;
J Baillie, D Brown, T Curley, C Gillan, J McCallum, M McCluskey,
J McDougall, T Spencer, J Hoey, K Aird, D McCue, J Orr, O Connelly,
P McGowan, A Chappell, W Lees, F Cassidy, P Duncan, A Martin and R Miller.
Being retained made me feel ten feet tall, to be honest. It had been a good finish to the season for Celtic. The first team had won the Scottish Cup and the reserves had picked up both the Reserve League title and the Combined Reserve League Championship. The latter had been cancelled for the following season of 1965-66 but there was still much to look forward to and I wanted very much to be part of it.
Jim Craig is named as new Celtic Ambassador
CELTIC Football Club is delighted to announce that it has named Lisbon Lion Jim Craig as a new Club Ambassador. Jim, who will join other Celtic legends Davie Hay, Tom Boyd and Roy Aitken as a Club Ambassador, will represent the Club across a range of activities.
Jim was part of the most famous team in the club’s history, one of the legendary Lisbon Lions who made football history when they won the European Cup in 1967 with a 2-1 victory over Inter Milan. The captain of that team, Billy McNeill, was the very first Club Ambassador.
Jim, who joined Celtic while studying for his dentistry degree, made 209 appearances and scored six goals during seven years with the club.
He made his debut in October 1965 in a European Cup-Winners’ Cup tie against Dutch side, Go Ahead Deventer, while his final game in the Hoops was the 1972 Scottish Cup final, when Celtic beat Hibernian 6-1.
He won seven league titles, four Scottish Cups and four League Cups, as well as the famous European Cup triumph.
After hanging up his boots in 1975, Jim took up dentistry on a full-time basis while enjoying a successful media career over many years. And throughout that time, he and his fellow Lisbon Lions have been much-loved by their fellow Celtic fans for everything they have done for the Club.
Celtic Chief Executive Peter Lawwell said: “We are delighted that Jim has accepted our invitation to become a Celtic Ambassador. He has made such a tremendous contribution to the Club, both during his playing career as part of Jock Stein’s legendary side, and in the years since, along with his fellow Lisbon Lions.
“Jim is a figure who commands huge respect in football, and particularly amongst our support, and we know he will be a fantastic Ambassador for Celtic.”
Jim Craig said: “It is a tremendous honour for me to be asked to become a Club Ambassador, and I want to thank the Club for making this gesture.
“I’m delighted to be joining my fellow Ambassadors, Davie Hay, Roy Aitken and Tom Boyd in representing the Club, and I’m honoured to be following my friend and fellow team-mate, Billy McNeill, who was Celtic’s first Ambassador.
“I know that, wherever I and my fellow Lisbon Lions, have gone, we have always been given the warmest of welcomes from the Celtic supporters, and it’s something we’ve always appreciated.
“It is very humbling to be recognised in this way and I am looking forward to representing and serving the Club in any way I can.”
Lisbon Lion Jim Craig on bettering Celtic’s 9-0, conquering Real Madrid and how any Old Firm player who says he enjoys the derby is “lying through his teeth”
https://www.scotsman.com/sport/football/lisbon-lion-jim-craig-on-bettering-celtics-9-0-conquering-real-madrid-and-how-any-old-firm-player-who-says-he-enjoys-the-derby-is-lying-through-his-teeth-3829970
Jimmy Johnstone supplied the wizardry on one wing and Bobby Lennox on the other the whoosh. Bobby Murdoch and Bertie Auld were the creative department, Tommy Gemmell was in charge of pyrotechnics and Billy McNeill was the mighty captain capable of a weightlifter’s snatch of the biggest trophy of the lot, the European Cup. Each and every Lisbon Lion had a defined role, but what about Jim Craig?
By Aidan Smith
Saturday, 3rd September 2022, 7:00 am
He was the quiet one among the Celtic immortals, for sure, and the different one for having another life as a dentist. He didn’t score many goals and was only capped once by his country. His nickname was someone else’s name – Cairney, after the actor John, star of the blackboard jungle telly drama This Man Craig. Rather than mementos from the career, his home is adorned with photographs of his daughter and four rugby-playing sons. But he was crucial to the plot for Scottish football’s greatest story and thankfully in Perthshire today it is not like drawing teeth to get him to tell me about it.
“I suppose there were a couple of happy accidents,” says Craig. “If I hadn’t given away the penalty from which Inter Milan took the lead they would never have sat back like they did, playing their catenaccio, and inviting us to attack them for 83 minutes. Who knows how 1967 would have turned out otherwise …
“And then,” he laughs, “there was that crazy game against Dynamo Kiev when I got myself sent off.” Crazy it may have been, but in a roundabout way the Cup Winners’ Cup tie a year before Lisbon changed how Celtic were run, allowing Jock Stein absolute power.
The excursion was definitely roundabout. The harshness of the Soviet winter was matched by the harshness of the Soviet regime who objected to Celtic flying Aer Lingus because Ireland didn’t have diplomatic relations with the old USSR.
Because of the snow the game had been switched to Tbilisi. Because of the dispute there would have to be tedious stop-offs in Moscow, one lasting five hours under armed guard. There was an emergency detour to Stockholm, and fear and alarm among the players during the pilot’s numerous attempts to get airborne, with the Munich tragedy an all too recent memory. But the match was played, only Craig didn’t manage to complete all of it.
“Their guy [Vitaliy] Khemlnytski threw a punch at me and I blocked it. He threw another and I blocked that, telling him in my best Glaswegian: ‘Gie us peace, for God’s sake!’ The referee, not wanting a Cold War incident, sent both of us off and we were escorted down the tunnel by the Red Army, guns at the ready.”
He shrugs at the memory. They bred footballers tough in Craig’s era. Once, his face a bleeding mess from a flying boot, he was unable to see properly until a trainer licked away the mud spattered on his eyeballs. A 1-1 draw in Georgia’s capital enabled Celtic to progress in the tournament but such were the delays caused by Moscow’s stand-off and the weather that the players didn’t arrive back in Glasgow until late on Friday night. Stein ordered an 11pm training session to loosen cramped limbs as Celtic were due at Tynecastle the following afternoon.
Celtic great Jim Craig proudly stands with the European Cup he and the rest of the Lisbon Lions clinched in 1967.
Celtic great Jim Craig proudly stands with the European Cup he and the rest of the Lisbon Lions clinched in 1967.
Craig was told he had to apologise to Parkhead chairman Bob Kelly, but when he refused, not believing he’d done anything wrong, found himself out of the side for the league game, which was duly lost. “It was a few years later that Big Jock told me I’d done him a good turn. Before, he would show the teamsheet to the chairman who might have screwed up his face at a name on it and shaken his head. But [secretary] Desmond White was angry [at Kelly’s intervention when Stein told him he’d wanted Craig to play against Hearts] and after that Big Jock had a free hand to pick the team.”
Craig is 79 and his powers of recall are remarkable. His wife Elisabeth has vacated their apartment in Gleneagles Village to go shopping – “She’s heard all my stories a million times,” he chuckles. But I’m all ears.
So this Celtic hit nine against Dundee United? His Celtic banged in ten against Hamilton Accies. “A great game [League Cup, 1968] for Lennox and [Steve] Chalmers who each scored five but for a right-back like me it was bloody useless!”
So this Celtic will begin their Champions League campaign trepidatiously against holders Real Madrid on Tuesday? His Celtic, a fortnight after Lisbon, beat the team who virtually owned the European Cup at that time, on their own patch in front of 127,000. “That was a testimonial for [Alfredo] Di Stefano but it was no friendly.” Glamorous Real wanted to re-assert superiority, put the pale, scruffy upstarts from Glasgow in their place. “No friendly,” Cairney repeats. “Bertie got sent off and, for going fighting, he totally deserved it!
“Some of the boys were against playing the game. We had a few nervous fliers in the team who didn’t want to be back in the air so soon after Lisbon. Plus, we were putting our reputation on the line.
“Big Jock was canny. He made a couple of changes, John Fallon and Willie O’Neill, so if Real won they wouldn’t have beaten the Lions. I was up against [Francisco] Gento – 37 but still clever. Jinky [Johnstone], though, was sensational. Every dribble the Spanish crowd shouted ‘Ole!’ But my best memory of that game was the morning after. Jinky, with his wife Agnes, had their suitcases all packed. ‘Where are you off to, wee man?’ I said. ‘Holiday, Cairney,’ he said. ‘Well, have a great time, the pair of you,’ I said and helped put the cases in the taxi. The driver turned round: ‘Aeropuerto?’ ‘Naw,’ said Jinky, ‘Benidorm.’ It was 535 miles from Madrid to the coast but he was the worst flier of us all and he was done with it!”
The Old Firm clash today. Does Craig have any stories about the ancient rivalry? Of course he does. His debut in the fixture was a 5-1 victory in 1966 and although Celtic would win most of the encounters in his seven years in hoops, the games were always keenly fought, often too much so.
In 1969 at Ibrox our man, far from the fiercest competitor in the fixture, tackled Willie Johnston while the winger was off the pitch retrieving the ball. “Another display of bad temper, petty fouling and open feuding,” went one match report. “Just what is causing all the trouble?”
Craig has a go: “The pressure in Old Firm games was off the scale. You quickly realise that you’re not only there to satisfy the desires of the Celtic fans inside the ground, but right across Scotland and right round the world. The same obviously goes for the Rangers boys. Honestly, I didn’t enjoy those matches, and I think anyone then or now who says they do is lying through their teeth.”
Later that season the rivals squared up in the Scottish Cup. There was another dismissal – Alex MacDonald – and after the aggro spilled onto the Parkhead terraces both clubs were summoned by the SFA, the police and Glasgow Corporation to explain why their meetings couldn’t be more peaceable affairs. “We all got fined but I don’t think that made any difference. Next time I’m sure we would have been at each other’s throats again.”
Craig scored an own goal in the cup-tie, Johnston ruffling his opponent’s hair in celebration. “I was going to clobber Willie but would have been spotted by [referee] ‘Tiny’ Wharton who’d sent me off in the earlier game – ‘Mr Craig, I would be very much obliged if you would leave the premises.’ So Wispy [Willie Wallace] punched him and got away with it. Later he said to me: ‘If he ever needs a whack again you’ll have to do it yourself – I think I’ve broke my hand.’ I reckon that must have been the first time Wispy had punched anyone. Avoid the jaw, go for the throat!”
When the madness had died down, Craig and Johnston at the final whistle would show their respect: “It was ‘Well done, ya wee bastard’ and ‘Same to you, ya big bastard’. Willie was greased lightning. I’d stand in front of him, try and show him inside to where Murdoch was waiting, or when I had the ball knock it ahead and hopefully tire him out. But in my career I played against Gento, Dragan Dzajic of Red Star Belgrade, [Renato] Cappellini of Inter Milan, [Pierino] Prati of AC Milan and the great George Best – and Willie in the mood was right up there with these guys.”
Craig smiles as he remembers how as a teenage prospect, captain of both the Glasgow and Scotland schools teams, he would tease the watching Ibrox scout, offering his services even though as a Roman Catholic he knew they wouldn’t be required. “His name was Jimmy Smith and he’d say: ‘Ach, you know how it is, son.’” Graeme Souness would erase the unwritten rule and Craig has a story about the Rangers revolutionary, too.
“He was this tubby lad from Edinburgh who trained at Celtic at nights, a skilful player but he wouldn’t run for the ball, almost as if it was beneath him, so I used to tick him off about that. A few years later when I was at Sheffield Wednesday I went up to Middlesbrough to see Murdoch. I asked him: ‘Who’s doing your running for you now?’ He pointed to Graeme and I was surprised. [Manager] Jack Charlton had told him: ‘Get your arse in gear or you’re out of this club.’”
We chat for an hour and a half and I know that today’s yarns are merely the equivalent of the loose change in Craig’s pocket, the spare studs and sock-ties in a trainer’s drawer. He’s greatly saddened by the passing of fellow Lions and the fragility of those who are left – Auld died last year and John “Yogi” Hughes last month – but if there is onus on him as the keeper of the legend then it doesn’t show.
A Celtic hero, indeed, but he’s the son of a Hibee. His father, Jimmy, was a furniture salesman in Leith’s Great Junction Street who worshipped the Famous Five. “Aged 89, just before he died, I told him: ‘Come on, Dad, we’re going for a wee drive.’ I’d arranged for him to visit his old school, Leith Academy. ‘That was lovely, son,’ he said, and then it was off to Easter Road for a tour. ‘Fantastic, are we going home now?’ ‘Let’s have lunch,’ I said. Lawrie Reilly was waiting for us in the pub.”
The old man possibly wasn’t enamoured by Craig’s last appearance for Celtic and especially his son’s surges late in the 1972 Scottish Cup final against Hibs which boosted the score to 6-1. Arthur Duncan was on the left wing that day – another difficult opponent? “Well, whenever we got hold of the opposition teamsheet, Hibs or before that Partick Thistle, Big Jock would turn to me and say ‘He’s playing’ and I would know he’d mean Arthur. The guy was quick but I think I was quicker.”
So why dentistry? “Aged 17 I got my first kick in the face playing football which broke my front teeth and I had to spend some time in the dental hospital, so: association of ideas.” Still, peering into hundreds of gobs, which became the full-time gig after football, doesn’t sound like tremendous fun. “Well, it was better than being a pathologist. At least I could talk to my patients.”
He’s laughing again, this time over Elisabeth’s theory for the possible cause of what she calls his “irrational moments”: “She says that either I’ve never got over that trainer holding open my eyelids and waggling his tongue about or I was exposed to too much mercury in the dental surgery!”
At Celtic and other clubs, players would ask him to look at troublesome gnashers but would stop sort of treating them. I can understand why, but wouldn’t it have been sweet Old Firm symmetry if, after Tommy Gemmell had located Willie Henderson’s contact lens in the mud on one flank, as legend has it, that Craig on the other side had quelled Willie Johnson’s toothache?
Craig only retired from dentistry six years ago and seems no less busy as a doting grandfather. He rates getting together with Elisabeth, 24 hours after Lisbon, as the greatest day of his life. The daughter of a Celtic director, she told him she was bound for France and a teaching job. Anxious to stall her long enough to make a good impression, he offered to check her teeth. Ten days later he proposed.
It sounds like he might have as many yarns about dentistry as he does football, though with the profession in post-Covid crisis he’s relieved to be out of it. “Last week Elisabeth came back from an appointment: ‘I’ve been quoted £2500 to have a bridge replaced,’ she said. ‘In the old days I just had to sleep with my dentist and that would be the bill settled!’”