Have you any funny Celtic related stories to tell?

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Wee story about Tommy Burns.

Back in 1996 Celtic were on a pre-season tour in Holland. My mate lived just outside Amsterdam so I went over and we took in the match against Gouda (Celtic won 8-1).

After the game there was a band playing in the clubhouse. A Dutch band playing pop stuff. The players had all got changed, mingled with the fans outside for photos and stuff and had made their way to the coach. We were having a beer outside and chatting to some Dutch fans. Some 20 minutes after the players had left, Paul McStay comes wandering back in and comes over to us. ‘Have you seen the gaffer’?
I’m gobsmacked that The Maestro is talking to me and I’m like ‘The gaffer? You mean Burns?
He says ‘Aye. The bus is waiting to leave and he’s nowhere to be seen’.
We help him go and look for TB and go back into the clubhouse. TB is on the stage with the band and has the microphone. He’s belting out ‘Mac The Knife’ and having a great time. We thought this was hilarious. McStay just shook his head and laughed too.
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Jack Daniels said:
View attachment 67

Wee story about Tommy Burns.

Back in 1996 Celtic were on a pre-season tour in Holland. My mate lived just outside Amsterdam so I went over and we took in the match against Gouda (Celtic won 8-1).

After the game there was a band playing in the clubhouse. A Dutch band playing pop stuff. The players had all got changed, mingled with the fans outside for photos and stuff and had made their way to the coach. We were having a beer outside and chatting to some Dutch fans. Some 20 minutes after the players had left, Paul McStay comes wandering back in and comes over to us. ‘Have you seen the gaffer’?
I’m gobsmacked that The Maestro is talking to me and I’m like ‘The gaffer? You mean Burns?
He says ‘Aye. The bus is waiting to leave and he’s nowhere to be seen’.
We help him go and look for TB and go back into the clubhouse. TB is on the stage with the band and has the microphone. He’s belting out ‘Mac The Knife’ and having a great time. We thought this was hilarious. McStay just shook his head and laughed too.
???
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Oops!
Tommy was a one off - a man who epitomised Celtic and everything we were set up do and be. A humble yet witty man who remained stoic until the end. The scenes at his funeral had me in tears. I am grateful to have had the opportunity to follow his career from the start to its untimely end. He will never be forgotten.
 
I was about 22 and it was the ne’rday game. The night before I had been out at a party and was up all night. I went back to my ma’s to get my ticket and decided to have a wee lie down for ten minutes.

Needless to say within minutes I was snoring like a bastard. It’s getting nearer the time to go so the old dear instructs my young brother to wake me up.

He came into the room and mimed shouting at me to wake me up, I think he wrote Wake Up! On a piece of paper and before you could say you little bastard, he was off with my ticket to the game.

I awoke in the dark and literally didn’t know whether it was New Year or New York. It all came back to me and I looked at the bedside and no fucking ticket lying there.

I runs into the living room shouting the odds to be told that brother dearest had tried to wake me up but I couldn’t be woken.

We won 2.0 so that placated me a bit, he stayed out a while, a long while and by the time the wee prick came in I was half canned again and let him off. He did own up to shouting the quietest shout ever recorded.

Taught me a lesson though.
 
It was at Easter Road in October 1966. A man was shouting and swearing all the time, and there were two young women nearby. Someone else said to him "Look, can't you see? There are women here. Can't you moderate your language?" To his credit, the man apologised and did indeed tone it down, but the two young women whose modesty and delicacy were so important, didn't notice and kept on intently watching the game. Jimmy Johnstone was on song, beating a few men and then crossing for Lennox or Chalmers to score. When the cheering died down, one of the young ladies turned to her friend and said "Aye, wee Jimmy's a crafty wee c***!"
 
Theverdict said:
I was about 22 and it was the ne’rday game. The night before I had been out at a party and was up all night. I went back to my ma’s to get my ticket and decided to have a wee lie down for ten minutes.

Needless to say within minutes I was snoring like a bastard. It’s getting nearer the time to go so the old dear instructs my young brother to wake me up.

He came into the room and mimed shouting at me to wake me up, I think he wrote Wake Up! On a piece of paper and before you could say you little bastard, he was off with my ticket to the game.

I awoke in the dark and literally didn’t know whether it was New Year or New York. It all came back to me and I looked at the bedside and no fucking ticket lying there.

I runs into the living room shouting the odds to be told that brother dearest had tried to wake me up but I couldn’t be woken.

We won 2.0 so that placated me a bit, he stayed out a while, a long while and by the time the wee prick came in I was half canned again and let him off. He did own up to shouting the quietest shout ever recorded.

Taught me a lesson though.
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More balls than a billiard table
That's a belter
 
DILLIGAF said:
More balls than a billiard table
That's a belter
Click to expand...

I did admire him. The truth was I had made a roaring of it and was in a drunken coma. Obviously someone had spiked they 20 drinks I had. You cannot trust anyone. It would have been worse if he wasn’t in and I woke up and the ticket was still there. So, at least one of the family saw us do they cunts, because once I lay on my bed the only place I was going was Zzzz’s Ville.

We still have a laugh about it. The fucker. :)
 
Similar story with me (I was about 15) and my wee cousin, he was about 11 and he related it to me almost 50 years later, as it had somehow been erased from my memory bank ;-)
Took him to Celtic v Rangers, Cup Final, we won, but got separated at the final whistle, due to the crowd surge, as we made our way out, our feet never touched the ground, I lost my grip on him and away he went, out the opposite gate to me
Imagine my panic as I tried to go against the grain, to no avail, eventually I made my way home to await my fate, when I told the tale
He ended up being escorted across the park and up the players tunnel and into the dressing rooms before the police took him to their HQ where his dad (my uncle) got a phone call, to come and get him at that night, at the police station
He had been getting tea and biscuits and was thoroughly enjoying himself and his 'adventure'
My dad and my uncle weren't best pleased with yours truly but it all worked out
He's 60 now and told me the story last year, I had forgotten it
ust have been the ;doing' I got when I got home without him ;-)
HH
 
DILLIGAF said:
Similar story with me (I was about 15) and my wee cousin, he was about 11 and he related it to me almost 50 years later, as it had somehow been erased from my memory bank ;-)
Took him to Celtic v Rangers, Cup Final, we won, but got separated at the final whistle, due to the crowd surge, as we made our way out, our feet never touched the ground, I lost my grip on him and away he went, out the opposite gate to me
Imagine my panic as I tried to go against the grain, to no avail, eventually I made my way home to await my fate, when I told the tale
He ended up being escorted across the park and up the players tunnel and into the dressing rooms before the police took him to their HQ where his dad (my uncle) got a phone call, to come and get him at that night, at the police station
He had been getting tea and biscuits and was thoroughly enjoying himself and his 'adventure'
My dad and my uncle weren't best pleased with yours truly but it all worked out
He's 60 now and told me the story last year, I had forgotten it
ust have been the ;doing' I got when I got home without him ;-)
HH
Click to expand...

Wee brothers and wee cousins cut from the same cloth.
 
Some great stories in this thread!

Bear in mind I'm not Scottish or Irish - I'm Basque and I've lived my Celtic supporting life in a very different way, over a thousand miles away. I have a couple anyway:

1) When my friends and I were teenagers and we went to Salou in the summer for the first time, must have been 2006 or so. I wasn't even a proper Celtic supporter yet, I just liked the team. My pals were into football as well and they liked Celtic too so we ended up buying a few of those knock-off Celtic shirts for 10€ each or so (I know, I know) so that all of us would go to the beach in Celtic shirts.

The abuse we had to endure was eye-opening! Six or seven fucking kids in Celtic shirts and five minutes in a fat bastard had already stuck out his full upper body out of the car window to shout shite at us, many more British tourists gave us funny looks, one guy even shouted "God save the Queen!" at us ffs :ROFLMAO: We didn't understand it completely yet (and it's not like we were in fucking Govan, it was Catalonia and we were gonna wear whatever we wanted) but we kinda liked it (because no one took it further than that, I must say) and it was one of the things that turned me on to start with what is complete love now: arseholes hated Celtic, so I instinctively grew more attracted to it.

2) This is not a specific story, but living outside Scotland/Ireland/UK the amount of times you get to see people wearing Celtic apparel is limited... but fairly consistent! Basque people like Celtic more than you'd expect and you'll always end up seeing a hooped shirt here or there. You know when you go on holiday somewhere big and you know you'll eventually spot someone wearing the hoops? Well, it's like that here too. That moment when you come across someone in the hoops and you whisper "mon the hoops" or something like that and you get that look of complicity from someone who didn't expect that, I've always enjoyed it. It's a two-way street too: last Saturday I visited Bilbao wearing a Celtic tee (plain grey one, grey logo, so you had to pay attention to notice it) and two different guys said "aupa el Celtic!" to me totally unprompted. Love it every time.

and 3) I'm an Alaves season ticket holder as it's my hometown team, and in 2017 it reached its first ever Cup final, against Barcelona of all teams. They scheduled it on 27th May which was... yes, you guessed it, the same day we were playing the Scottish Cup final against Aberdeen for the first invincible Treble ever.
I was fucking devastated that I couldn't watch the Hampden match, but I had a ticket for Vicente Calderon (the last official match ever played there, too!) and I wasn't gonna miss it to watch our match on a shitty streaming or so. I googled for Celtic bars in Madrid but my friends insisted I wasn't gonna miss the fanzone so I settled on watching it on the phone there. However with all the people packed in the fanzone, reception was terrible and my data wasn't working properly, so I ended up following the match combining twitter and a football app. I remember that game way more vividly than many matches I've watched in person!!! Hayes' goal, Armstrong's belter, Stockley's elbow on Tierney... I followed the whole match in agony while people were having fun and drinking around me (don't worry, I was drinking too). Then Rogic scored on the 92nd, a minute or so later the notification reached my phone and I went fucking crazy, "we've won it!!! we've won it!!!" a guy looked at me like I'm fucking nuts and said "relax, dude, it's actually a few hours until it starts" :cool: A few minutes later I spotted a guy wearing a Celtic shirt in our fanzone (see number 2 above!) and I just went straight to him, hugged him and told him WE FUCKING DID IT! I think I had to explain to him afterwards :LOL: I don't think I've seen a goal repeated so many times as I watched that one, my battery ran dry well before my second cup final of the day started! We got an Invincible Treble that day but sadly I didn't get a personal cup double that night, although that is not a Celtic story and thus I'll leave it at that...
 
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It was October 23 1965, and we had just won the Scottish League Cup beating Rangers 2-1 (Two John Hughes). I was deep behind enemy lines, cut off from my unit but I knew I had to get to Mount Florida Station (had I been a little more savvy about Glasgow trains I would have gone to King's Park Station) to get back to central Glasgow and my train home from Buchanan. But I was only 17 and found myself standing on a packed train full of Huns, nasty, angry ones who thought that Jock Stein was a traitor for "deserting the cause". I was going to argue but intelligence was not a noticeable factor among the neanderthals. Then they started singing. Now I had made up my own parody of their favourite ditty about my syphilitic parent - "His cock had many spots on it, and sometimes they were sore. It's a thing he never boasts about - it's the rash my father bore!" with the three add-on words "It's the pox!", so when they started up, I was able to join in, silently of course - with my own words! And they never noticed! Then "The cry was poor King William, some day we know he'll die, for side by side with Joe McBride, we'll cut off King William's balls!" Again, they didn't notice! And by that time, I was an expert at looking unhappy, when really I was as high as a kite. At last we reached Glasgow Central where there were loads of policemen, and this little bird was able to fly away!
 
Another story, although this one is about a friend of mine, not me personally. He was travelling home in his car after the game which stopped the 10 in a row of 1998. A bus load of Rangers supporters had stopped by the side of the road and about 20 of them were standing in a line urinating. My friend leaned out his car window and shouted "Hail! Hail!" (or something similar). The Huns all turned round to return the salutations and in so doing lost concentration on the job in hand, if you get my meaning. The result was that that all pished on each other all the way along the line!
 
TET said:
My mates a taxi driver.

He had a hire going to Celtic park one night years ago.

My mate asked if the dude was going to a function.
Reply was it is function- something to do with meeting some of the lisbon Lions.

My mate who is big Celtic fan got big jealous and said he wishes he could have went would have been a nice to meet some of the players who won the big trophy and shake their hands.

Told the passenger a few of his favourite Celtic stories memories.

The passenger said my favourite memory was actually being at the game in Lisbon.

Wow that must of been awesome.

Arriving at Celtic park the passenger put his hand in the window to shake his hand and said well I loved your stories, heres a new one to tell people. You did get chance to shake a Lisbon lion hand tonight and my favourite memory of football was scoring the winning Goal to win the cup. Im Stevie Chalmers with a wry smile.

And to tell the truth I probably wouldn't know him if he passed me in the street to this day. But I wish I could shake his hand if I did ever meet him.
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Absolute belter mate!!
 
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Uztai said:
Some great stories in this thread!

Bear in mind I'm not Scottish or Irish - I'm Basque and I've lived my Celtic supporting life in a very different way, over a thousand miles away. I have a couple anyway:

1) When my friends and I were teenagers and we went to Salou in the summer for the first time, must have been 2006 or so. I wasn't even a proper Celtic supporter yet, I just liked the team. My pals were into football as well and they liked Celtic too so we ended up buying a few of those knock-off Celtic shirts for 10€ each or so (I know, I know) so that all of us would go to the beach in Celtic shirts.

The abuse we had to endure was eye-opening! Six or seven fucking kids in Celtic shirts and five minutes in a fat bastard had already stuck out his full upper body out of the car window to shout shite at us, many more British tourists gave us funny looks, one guy even shouted "God save the Queen!" at us ffs :ROFLMAO: We didn't understand it completely yet (and it's not like we were in fucking Govan, it was Catalonia and we were gonna wear whatever we wanted) but we kinda liked it (because no one took it further than that, I must say) and it was one of the things that turned me on to start with what is complete love now: arseholes hated Celtic, so I instinctively grew more attracted to it.

2) This is not a specific story, but living outside Scotland/Ireland/UK the amount of times you get to see people wearing Celtic apparel is limited... but fairly consistent! Basque people like Celtic more than you'd expect and you'll always end up seeing a hooped shirt here or there. You know when you go on holiday somewhere big and you know you'll eventually spot someone wearing the hoops? Well, it's like that here too. That moment when you come across someone in the hoops and you whisper "mon the hoops" or something like that and you get that look of complicity from someone who didn't expect that, I've always enjoyed it. It's a two-way street too: last Saturday I visited Bilbao wearing a Celtic tee (plain grey one, grey logo, so you had to pay attention to notice it) and two different guys said "aupa el Celtic!" to me totally unprompted. Love it every time.

and 3) I'm an Alaves season ticket holder as it's my hometown team, and in 2017 it reached its first ever Cup final, against Barcelona of all teams. They scheduled it on 27th May which was... yes, you guessed it, the same day we were playing the Scottish Cup final against Aberdeen for the first invincible Treble ever.
I was fucking devastated that I couldn't watch the Hampden match, but I had a ticket for Vicente Calderon (the last official match ever played there, too!) and I wasn't gonna miss it to watch our match on a shitty streaming or so. I googled for Celtic bars in Madrid but my friends insisted I wasn't gonna miss the fanzone so I settled on watching it on the phone there. However with all the people packed in the fanzone, reception was terrible and my data wasn't working properly, so I ended up following the match combining twitter and a football app. I remember that game way more vividly than many matches I've watched in person!!! Hayes' goal, Armstrong's belter, Stockley's elbow on Tierney... I followed the whole match in agony while people were having fun and drinking around me (don't worry, I was drinking too). Then Rogic scored on the 92nd, a minute or so later the notification reached my phone and I went fucking crazy, "we've won it!!! we've won it!!!" a guy looked at me like I'm fucking nuts and said "relax, dude, it's actually a few hours until it starts" :cool: A few minutes later I spotted a guy wearing a Celtic shirt in our fanzone (see number 2 above!) and I just went straight to him, hugged him and told him WE FUCKING DID IT! I think I had to explain to him afterwards :LOL: I don't think I've seen a goal repeated so many times as I watched that one, my battery ran dry well before my second cup final of the day started! We got an Invincible Treble that day but sadly I didn't get a personal cup double that night, although that is not a Celtic story and thus I'll leave it at that...
Click to expand...

You’re a total legend Uztai ?????
 
David Potter said:
Another story, although this one is about a friend of mine, not me personally. He was travelling home in his car after the game which stopped the 10 in a row of 1998. A bus load of Rangers supporters had stopped by the side of the road and about 20 of them were standing in a line urinating. My friend leaned out his car window and shouted "Hail! Hail!" (or something similar). The Huns all turned round to return the salutations and in so doing lost concentration on the job in hand, if you get my meaning. The result was that that all pished on each other all the way along the line!
Click to expand...

Huns covered in Hun pish... what a cracking way to end a cracking day haha
 
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