Right from my early days in school, I was always nuts on football. At that time, though, Celtic was not the side at the centre of my thoughts.
My Dad Jimmy, born and reared in Leith, had always been a Hibbee, a good side in the 1950s and would occasionally travel through to see his team play their various European ties in the capital and then tell me all about the match the following day.
Gradually however, as a wee lad from Glasgow, I was becoming more interested in the fortunes of Celtic Football Club and they soon became my number one side.
I had always played for my school’s first team – both in primary and secondary- and in 1960, aged 16, was selected for the Scottish schools under 18 side to meet England at Turf Moor, Burnley where we lost 1-2. A year later I captained the side to face the English, this time at Parkhead, where we won by a solitary goal. Before the match, we were also introduced to a well known football face from Scotland who had played in that same match some years before – Billy McNeill.
I was approached by Celtic to sign at the start of season 1961-62 but I had also been accepted for entry to Glasgow University to study dentistry. I decided though, that I could not cope with both and declined the offer from Celtic. I did though play for the 3rd team that the club had in those days, although I did not do my training at Celtic Park. Instead I did a combination of running round Bellahouston Park – near where my parents lived – or galloping up the big hill in its centre. Both of these stamina workouts would stand me in very good stead in future years.
I came out of football in season 62-63, as the workload of Anatomy, Physiology and Biochemistry was just too much. We had lectures from 9am till 1pm, then labs from 2pm till 5pm- plus classes on a Saturday morning- and I just could not cope with everything. I did though continue with the running round the Park as often as I could and played in midweek for the Dental Hospital side in the Glasgow Colleges League.
In 1963-64, the pressure eased a bit and I joined the Glasgow University Football Club- at that time in the First Division of the Scottish Amateur League- training with the lads twice a week and playing on Saturdays. During the early months of that 64-65 season, at Mass on Sundays I would very often meet with a Celtic scout called Joe Connor and we would invariably have a chat about things Celtic and matters Craig, where I had played the day before and how I had got on.
Then one Sunday he mentioned that Sean Fallon would like to have a chat with me and then completely shocked me by admitting that he , Joe, had been watching me play on a regular basis and giving some good reports to the Assistant Manager. I was stunned and also felt like a right idiot as I had never spotted Joe at any of the matches but he mentioned details of certain games that only somebody present would have known.
So, late in the afternoon of 7 January 1965, when I was halfway through the 4th year of a 5 year dental course, I walked down from the Dental Hospital- which in those days was in Renfrew Street, parallel to Sauchiehall Street- to the Heilanman’s Umbrella, underneath Central Station. From there I caught a 64 Corporation bus to Auchenshuggle which would drop me off at Celtic Football Club.
The manager at the time was Jimmy McGrory but that evening his assistant Sean Fallon handled all the details and I was suddenly a Celtic player, on a salary of £8 per week. It does not sound much in modern terms but as a student I was only getting 25 shillings a week ( £1.25) from my parents to cover all my expenses, so suddenly I felt quite well off!!
I also left Celtic Park feeling wonderful and made my way down to London Road to catch the bus back to the city centre. Suddenly though I had another stroke of luck. The club doctor, Dr John Fitzsimmons, had been at the Park that evening dealing with injuries and I had been introduced to him. He saw me approaching the bus stop, pulled up beside me, told me to jump in and drove me to Renfield Street to pick up the bus home.
When I arrived home and told my parents why I was a bit late I got something of a mixed reception. My Dad seemed quite delighted but Mum was more to the point! ” You are late” she said ” And your dinner is in the oven” She then raised another topic. ” I sincerely hope you will still find time for your University course” I reassured her that I would cope with both of my careers and she seemed to accept that although frankly my mother never fell in love with football
Even after 60 years I still recall that occasion as having been one of the most memorable days of my life. Nine months later, to the very day, 7 October 1965, I made my first team debut against Go Ahead Deventer of Holland. But that’s another story!