My Celtic story

Khenny

Well-known member
Great thread. Yes there are a few that started watching in the 60's and if I smile knowingly it's because we probably all stood in the jungle together when we started our Celtic story.
HH
The Jungle was an amazing place to watch the game. I used to be direct across from the tunnel most matches.

The goosebumps started as soon as you glimpsed green and white hoops down the tunnel. The cacophony of noise as the bhoys came on to the park was spine-tingling.
 

Spherical Planet

Well-known member
I'm afraid my story isn't that interesting. I was born into an Irish family who loved football and that's where the choice kinda ended for me.

I got taken to the occasional game when I was a young lad, but that was more of an inconvenience to my Da' and my Uncles as it curtailed their spirits on a typical Irish 'day oot'.

Even at the games themselves, it wasn't the football I was particularly interested in. It was all of the people and the strange voices that were different from mine (and the swearing). The fragrant smells o' pish, booze and tobacco pretty much charted the course for the rest of my life, because I wanted to smell o' pish, booze and tobacco too.........I achieved my goal with aplomb.

I grew up in a street that runs parallel to Tannadice and Dens, so most of my early memories were of sneaking into both of those grounds when I was young. I started playing for the school and in the juvies when I was eight and the schools played Saturday morning, so if I was lucky and my Ma' was going to the bingo, my Da' had no choice but to take me to a midweek game and if you can't fall in love with a game under lights at Celtic Park, then you have no soul.
 

CelticRose

Well-known member
Well here I am going to tell my wee tale. It’s not going to be the same as all you who got to go to Celtic Park but I’ve supported Celtic since I was a wee girl growing up in the 50’s. I have three brothers who all supported
Celtic and my husband who was a lifelong Celtic fan.

My mum was born in Maryhill and her dad my grandfather was a convert, but even before he converted he always loved the Celtic.

my dad was born in the Scotstoun building locally known as the Convicts Building. The majority of the families down there were from Irish Catholic decent. My dad worked as a ships plater in the shipyards all his life. And he said it could be hard in the yards in the 40’s and 50’s because many were Protestant and supported Rangers. But my dad had the most amazing sense of humour which got him through. He loved Celtic, and on a Saturday night he would come home having had one too many and would sing the John Thompson song and after that it was Kevin Barry. But he told us the story of John Thompson every Saturday night.

as my brothers became teenagers they started going to see Celtic during the sixties in the lead up to the European Cup. They would come home from the games and there me and my mum who also loved football got the rundown of the game.

for me the greatest day was watching Celtic win the European Cup on 25 May 1967. My brothers couldn’t afford to go to Lisbon but they were too young anyway, so we all packed up in the living room and the streets were deserted. not a bus or car in sight everybody was watching the game and on wee black and white TV’s.
It was nerve wracking as you all know inter Milan got a penalty first. But when we won we were all jumping about the living room. Then my dad and older brother went to the pub and me and my pals were all out dancing in the streets. Oh what a night that was.

The following year I met my husband to be called Patrick but Pat to all who knew him except his mum. He lived in Garthamlock as his parents had moved from the Gorbals to a nice house with an inside bathroom and toilet so they were delighted. Pat was 4 years old. By the time he was 8 in 1958 he would walk all the way with his pals to Parkhead and get lifted over the gates. He actually spent the rest his life in Parkhead watching Celtic over the years.
I noticed Khenny mentioned the Scottish cup final at Hamden in 1974 between Dundee United and Celtic, well that was our wedding day. It had to be booked well in advance so I didn’t know that was going to be the fixture date for the Scottish Cup. Anyway as we left the church and got into our wedding car the first thing Pat said was to the driver what was the score and thankfully we won so it was a great day and he was very happy even although he had to miss the game. I only got to one game with him and it was against Kilmarnock and it was freezing and I was chilled to the bone. So after that he was on his own which probably suited him better going with all his Celtic mates. But now looking back I so wish I had joined him more often at the Celtic games I feel I’ve missed so much.

Pat was a lifelong Celtic fan and had on many occasions run the gauntlet on the 89 bus going through Bridgeton cross but I’m sure there were many many stories he could have told you about had he been spared. There is a strange irony to his last outing to CP. both he and my older brother had season tickets and met up to go see Celtic most weekends. But on this one day our daughter needed his car so he said it’s ok I will walk it. So off he went but I thought he was going for the 89 bus but he didn’t he started to walk. He got lost and didn’t get to CP till half time my brother was worried and phoned me later that night to see if Pat was ok. My brother said Pat didn’t know where he was but had seen some guys with Celtic scarfs and and he followed them and that’s how he eventually got to the game. Pat was diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s at the age of 5and died aged 61. He was buried with his Celtic scarf and we played the song ‘Something inside so strong’ .

Apologies for the sad ending of this journey but I’m so glad I joined this forum it keeps me up to date with all things Celtic and Pats memory lives on.
I have got a brick with his name on at the North Stand and I was supposed to go with my younger brother on March 7th this year to see Celtic v St Mirren but the COVID had started and so I couldn’t make it through but I will get there once this is all over. 💚💚
 

The Shamrock

Well-known member
SP , docco , bigian, shammy , Celtic rose , 26 , 50 , all posters stories please
I don't really have a story as such Torrance. My dad played junior football (Sligo Celtic) and also managed St Anthony's for a time. As my mother sometimes worked on a Saturday and me being a daddy's ghirl I was always with him either at the Ants or Paradise. I feel as if I grew up in the dug-out and Celtic was just a part of my family. My mum had an uncle that played for Aberdeen and was also capped for Scotland. My wee brother was well kent in junior football but at one time he was Ferguson's first signing at the Dons but he didn't like living away from home. It's in the blood as his bhoy plays in the Scottish Championship currently though he spent his earlier years in the Celtic Development squad. Our house lived and breathed football and Celtic and when I was a nipper I remember in '67 all the mums were out playing in the streets with all us kids as we were all thrown out the house for the Big Cup final. My dad was ecstatic that night and it's only recently that I had to throw out all the paper cuttings and articles he had kept from the newspapers from that night. Celtic is in my DNA and my children are the same.
 

Spherical Planet

Well-known member
Well here I am going to tell my wee tale. It’s not going to be the same as all you who got to go to Celtic Park but I’ve supported Celtic since I was a wee girl growing up in the 50’s. I have three brothers who all supported
Celtic and my husband who was a lifelong Celtic fan.

My mum was born in Maryhill and her dad my grandfather was a convert, but even before he converted he always loved the Celtic.

my dad was born in the Scotstoun building locally known as the Convicts Building. The majority of the families down there were from Irish Catholic decent. My dad worked as a ships plater in the shipyards all his life. And he said it could be hard in the yards in the 40’s and 50’s because many were Protestant and supported Rangers. But my dad had the most amazing sense of humour which got him through. He loved Celtic, and on a Saturday night he would come home having had one too many and would sing the John Thompson song and after that it was Kevin Barry. But he told us the story of John Thompson every Saturday night.

as my brothers became teenagers they started going to see Celtic during the sixties in the lead up to the European Cup. They would come home from the games and there me and my mum who also loved football got the rundown of the game.

for me the greatest day was watching Celtic win the European Cup on 25 May 1967. My brothers couldn’t afford to go to Lisbon but they were too young anyway, so we all packed up in the living room and the streets were deserted. not a bus or car in sight everybody was watching the game and on wee black and white TV’s.
It was nerve wracking as you all know inter Milan got a penalty first. But when we won we were all jumping about the living room. Then my dad and older brother went to the pub and me and my pals were all out dancing in the streets. Oh what a night that was.

The following year I met my husband to be called Patrick but Pat to all who knew him except his mum. He lived in Garthamlock as his parents had moved from the Gorbals to a nice house with an inside bathroom and toilet so they were delighted. Pat was 4 years old. By the time he was 8 in 1958 he would walk all the way with his pals to Parkhead and get lifted over the gates. He actually spent the rest his life in Parkhead watching Celtic over the years.
I noticed Khenny mentioned the Scottish cup final at Hamden in 1974 between Dundee United and Celtic, well that was our wedding day. It had to be booked well in advance so I didn’t know that was going to be the fixture date for the Scottish Cup. Anyway as we left the church and got into our wedding car the first thing Pat said was to the driver what was the score and thankfully we won so it was a great day and he was very happy even although he had to miss the game. I only got to one game with him and it was against Kilmarnock and it was freezing and I was chilled to the bone. So after that he was on his own which probably suited him better going with all his Celtic mates. But now looking back I so wish I had joined him more often at the Celtic games I feel I’ve missed so much.

Pat was a lifelong Celtic fan and had on many occasions run the gauntlet on the 89 bus going through Bridgeton cross but I’m sure there were many many stories he could have told you about had he been spared. There is a strange irony to his last outing to CP. both he and my older brother had season tickets and met up to go see Celtic most weekends. But on this one day our daughter needed his car so he said it’s ok I will walk it. So off he went but I thought he was going for the 89 bus but he didn’t he started to walk. He got lost and didn’t get to CP till half time my brother was worried and phoned me later that night to see if Pat was ok. My brother said Pat didn’t know where he was but had seen some guys with Celtic scarfs and and he followed them and that’s how he eventually got to the game. Pat was diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s at the age of 5and died aged 61. He was buried with his Celtic scarf and we played the song ‘Something inside so strong’ .

Apologies for the sad ending of this journey but I’m so glad I joined this forum it keeps me up to date with all things Celtic and Pats memory lives on.
I have got a brick with his name on at the North Stand and I was supposed to go with my younger brother on March 7th this year to see Celtic v St Mirren but the COVID had started and so I couldn’t make it through but I will get there once this is all over. 💚💚
Oh it's that emotion that explains everything about life, love and football, Rose.

It's hard for any two people to universally agree on things, especially when that person is the one you are going to spend many years of your life with. You may like different music, different food, different movies. You may have political differences, or even differences in who and how you worship. You may not always see eye-to-eye with your mutual extended families and you may even have differences in approaching how you raise children.

These differences may not present any major obstacle, after all - love conquers all, but in amongst those differences - you also need the rope that binds the stone and timber together.

In the case of Pat and yourself - Celtic represent that rope and I'm so happy that Pat had someone he could share his other true love with.

Things are different now, the lassies are finding their place within the male dominated environs of football, but for many years there were the 'football widows' who may have felt like the third wheel in some bizarre love triangle. I'll lay any odds you like, that Pat appreciated and loved you all the more for understanding this strange obsession we all have with Celtic.

That man sits with God and watches over you now, hen.
 

michael duffy

Well-known member
Well here I am going to tell my wee tale. It’s not going to be the same as all you who got to go to Celtic Park but I’ve supported Celtic since I was a wee girl growing up in the 50’s. I have three brothers who all supported
Celtic and my husband who was a lifelong Celtic fan.

My mum was born in Maryhill and her dad my grandfather was a convert, but even before he converted he always loved the Celtic.

my dad was born in the Scotstoun building locally known as the Convicts Building. The majority of the families down there were from Irish Catholic decent. My dad worked as a ships plater in the shipyards all his life. And he said it could be hard in the yards in the 40’s and 50’s because many were Protestant and supported Rangers. But my dad had the most amazing sense of humour which got him through. He loved Celtic, and on a Saturday night he would come home having had one too many and would sing the John Thompson song and after that it was Kevin Barry. But he told us the story of John Thompson every Saturday night.

as my brothers became teenagers they started going to see Celtic during the sixties in the lead up to the European Cup. They would come home from the games and there me and my mum who also loved football got the rundown of the game.

for me the greatest day was watching Celtic win the European Cup on 25 May 1967. My brothers couldn’t afford to go to Lisbon but they were too young anyway, so we all packed up in the living room and the streets were deserted. not a bus or car in sight everybody was watching the game and on wee black and white TV’s.
It was nerve wracking as you all know inter Milan got a penalty first. But when we won we were all jumping about the living room. Then my dad and older brother went to the pub and me and my pals were all out dancing in the streets. Oh what a night that was.

The following year I met my husband to be called Patrick but Pat to all who knew him except his mum. He lived in Garthamlock as his parents had moved from the Gorbals to a nice house with an inside bathroom and toilet so they were delighted. Pat was 4 years old. By the time he was 8 in 1958 he would walk all the way with his pals to Parkhead and get lifted over the gates. He actually spent the rest his life in Parkhead watching Celtic over the years.
I noticed Khenny mentioned the Scottish cup final at Hamden in 1974 between Dundee United and Celtic, well that was our wedding day. It had to be booked well in advance so I didn’t know that was going to be the fixture date for the Scottish Cup. Anyway as we left the church and got into our wedding car the first thing Pat said was to the driver what was the score and thankfully we won so it was a great day and he was very happy even although he had to miss the game. I only got to one game with him and it was against Kilmarnock and it was freezing and I was chilled to the bone. So after that he was on his own which probably suited him better going with all his Celtic mates. But now looking back I so wish I had joined him more often at the Celtic games I feel I’ve missed so much.

Pat was a lifelong Celtic fan and had on many occasions run the gauntlet on the 89 bus going through Bridgeton cross but I’m sure there were many many stories he could have told you about had he been spared. There is a strange irony to his last outing to CP. both he and my older brother had season tickets and met up to go see Celtic most weekends. But on this one day our daughter needed his car so he said it’s ok I will walk it. So off he went but I thought he was going for the 89 bus but he didn’t he started to walk. He got lost and didn’t get to CP till half time my brother was worried and phoned me later that night to see if Pat was ok. My brother said Pat didn’t know where he was but had seen some guys with Celtic scarfs and and he followed them and that’s how he eventually got to the game. Pat was diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s at the age of 5and died aged 61. He was buried with his Celtic scarf and we played the song ‘Something inside so strong’ .

Apologies for the sad ending of this journey but I’m so glad I joined this forum it keeps me up to date with all things Celtic and Pats memory lives on.
I have got a brick with his name on at the North Stand and I was supposed to go with my younger brother on March 7th this year to see Celtic v St Mirren but the COVID had started and so I couldn’t make it through but I will get there once this is all over. 💚💚
Beautiful memories Celtic Rose Hail Hail ☘️
 

Khenny

Well-known member
Well here I am going to tell my wee tale. It’s not going to be the same as all you who got to go to Celtic Park but I’ve supported Celtic since I was a wee girl growing up in the 50’s. I have three brothers who all supported
Celtic and my husband who was a lifelong Celtic fan.

My mum was born in Maryhill and her dad my grandfather was a convert, but even before he converted he always loved the Celtic.

my dad was born in the Scotstoun building locally known as the Convicts Building. The majority of the families down there were from Irish Catholic decent. My dad worked as a ships plater in the shipyards all his life. And he said it could be hard in the yards in the 40’s and 50’s because many were Protestant and supported Rangers. But my dad had the most amazing sense of humour which got him through. He loved Celtic, and on a Saturday night he would come home having had one too many and would sing the John Thompson song and after that it was Kevin Barry. But he told us the story of John Thompson every Saturday night.

as my brothers became teenagers they started going to see Celtic during the sixties in the lead up to the European Cup. They would come home from the games and there me and my mum who also loved football got the rundown of the game.

for me the greatest day was watching Celtic win the European Cup on 25 May 1967. My brothers couldn’t afford to go to Lisbon but they were too young anyway, so we all packed up in the living room and the streets were deserted. not a bus or car in sight everybody was watching the game and on wee black and white TV’s.
It was nerve wracking as you all know inter Milan got a penalty first. But when we won we were all jumping about the living room. Then my dad and older brother went to the pub and me and my pals were all out dancing in the streets. Oh what a night that was.

The following year I met my husband to be called Patrick but Pat to all who knew him except his mum. He lived in Garthamlock as his parents had moved from the Gorbals to a nice house with an inside bathroom and toilet so they were delighted. Pat was 4 years old. By the time he was 8 in 1958 he would walk all the way with his pals to Parkhead and get lifted over the gates. He actually spent the rest his life in Parkhead watching Celtic over the years.
I noticed Khenny mentioned the Scottish cup final at Hamden in 1974 between Dundee United and Celtic, well that was our wedding day. It had to be booked well in advance so I didn’t know that was going to be the fixture date for the Scottish Cup. Anyway as we left the church and got into our wedding car the first thing Pat said was to the driver what was the score and thankfully we won so it was a great day and he was very happy even although he had to miss the game. I only got to one game with him and it was against Kilmarnock and it was freezing and I was chilled to the bone. So after that he was on his own which probably suited him better going with all his Celtic mates. But now looking back I so wish I had joined him more often at the Celtic games I feel I’ve missed so much.

Pat was a lifelong Celtic fan and had on many occasions run the gauntlet on the 89 bus going through Bridgeton cross but I’m sure there were many many stories he could have told you about had he been spared. There is a strange irony to his last outing to CP. both he and my older brother had season tickets and met up to go see Celtic most weekends. But on this one day our daughter needed his car so he said it’s ok I will walk it. So off he went but I thought he was going for the 89 bus but he didn’t he started to walk. He got lost and didn’t get to CP till half time my brother was worried and phoned me later that night to see if Pat was ok. My brother said Pat didn’t know where he was but had seen some guys with Celtic scarfs and and he followed them and that’s how he eventually got to the game. Pat was diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s at the age of 5and died aged 61. He was buried with his Celtic scarf and we played the song ‘Something inside so strong’ .

Apologies for the sad ending of this journey but I’m so glad I joined this forum it keeps me up to date with all things Celtic and Pats memory lives on.
I have got a brick with his name on at the North Stand and I was supposed to go with my younger brother on March 7th this year to see Celtic v St Mirren but the COVID had started and so I couldn’t make it through but I will get there once this is all over. 💚💚
You mentioning that your wedding was on the day I was at my first cup final reminded me of my wedding day.

My best man was an Aberdeen fan and we were playing them that day (17/09/1988).

If I remember correctly without googling it we got beat 3-1. 😢😢😢

edit to add, my wife's name is Rosie. 😉 She's on this site but not sure if she's posted in like... Forever 😄
 

Ian65

Well-known member
SP , docco , bigian, shammy , Celtic rose , 26 , 50 , all posters stories please
My Celtic story is like a lot a cunts , you don’t get a choice tae be a Celtic supporter one day you just realise you are , I can remember ma wee maw pushing ma gochair😂😂 pram thing into Glasgow city centre think it wiz George square and I can just remember a coach with a big silver thing oan the front seat think it wiz the big cup . The first game I can really remember vividly was 1971/1972 season I think flag day Celtic 9 Clyde 1 ma da said stein should huv got the sack for sloppy defending 🤦‍♂️ Only kidding . Loved going to parkheid with ma dad he wiz and still is ma fuckin hero , came from the gorbals aw my mates were Celtic daft some off the best fights I had , seen wiz cause some cunt said there Celtic afore some other cunt 😂😂 that Celtic team that day was fuckin impressive Connolly , dalglish , murdoch macari to name but 4 anyway Clyde my second team at the time cause shawfield was jus up the road got pumped 😂😂, loved going to the fitba wie ma da always kinda made out didnae really bother him 😂😂😂 lying auld cunt .Night games at Celtic park were always a treat floodlights oan ma da just in fae work every thing wiz about get tae the holy ground my da and his mucker used tae stand in the Celtic end near the main stand , a motley crew a cunts I could never understand and it wasn’t gailic they were talking just deep deep fuckin brouge, my da has been in this country for 70 yrs and his accent is just aff the fuckin boat 😂😂 but midweek European games under the floodlights as a young lad standing in the Celtic end looking at the jungle wow disco fuckin lights , just watching all the red tips off peoples fags was absolutely fuckin magic 😂😂 cold night Celtic winning macaroon bars which I fuckin hate rolls and chop pork out of an egg box cans rolling down the stairs full a pish 😂😂 cans a pish flying ere yer head 😂😂😂 ah great fuckin days wish I could go back 🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀
 

michael duffy

Well-known member
My Celtic story is like a lot a cunts , you don’t get a choice tae be a Celtic supporter one day you just realise you are , I can remember ma wee maw pushing ma gochair😂😂 pram thing into Glasgow city centre think it wiz George square and I can just remember a coach with a big silver thing oan the front seat think it wiz the big cup . The first game I can really remember vividly was 1971/1972 season I think flag day Celtic 9 Clyde 1 ma da said stein should huv got the sack for sloppy defending 🤦‍♂️ Only kidding . Loved going to parkheid with ma dad he wiz and still is ma fuckin hero , came from the gorbals aw my mates were Celtic daft some off the best fights I had , seen wiz cause some cunt said there Celtic afore some other cunt 😂😂 that Celtic team that day was fuckin impressive Connolly , dalglish , murdoch macari to name but 4 anyway Clyde my second team at the time cause shawfield was jus up the road got pumped 😂😂, loved going to the fitba wie ma da always kinda made out didnae really bother him 😂😂😂 lying auld cunt .Night games at Celtic park were always a treat floodlights oan ma da just in fae work every thing wiz about get tae the holy ground my da and his mucker used tae stand in the Celtic end near the main stand , a motley crew a cunts I could never understand and it wasn’t gailic they were talking just deep deep fuckin brouge, my da has been in this country for 70 yrs and his accent is just aff the fuckin boat 😂😂 but midweek European games under the floodlights as a young lad standing in the Celtic end looking at the jungle wow disco fuckin lights , just watching all the red tips off peoples fags was absolutely fuckin magic 😂😂 cold night Celtic winning macaroon bars which I fuckin hate rolls and chop pork out of an egg box cans rolling down the stairs full a pish 😂😂 cans a pish flying ere yer head 😂😂😂 ah great fuckin days wish I could go back 🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀
Feckin brilliant Ian!:love:🍺
 

Torrancetim

Well-known member
Well here I am going to tell my wee tale. It’s not going to be the same as all you who got to go to Celtic Park but I’ve supported Celtic since I was a wee girl growing up in the 50’s. I have three brothers who all supported
Celtic and my husband who was a lifelong Celtic fan.

My mum was born in Maryhill and her dad my grandfather was a convert, but even before he converted he always loved the Celtic.

my dad was born in the Scotstoun building locally known as the Convicts Building. The majority of the families down there were from Irish Catholic decent. My dad worked as a ships plater in the shipyards all his life. And he said it could be hard in the yards in the 40’s and 50’s because many were Protestant and supported Rangers. But my dad had the most amazing sense of humour which got him through. He loved Celtic, and on a Saturday night he would come home having had one too many and would sing the John Thompson song and after that it was Kevin Barry. But he told us the story of John Thompson every Saturday night.

as my brothers became teenagers they started going to see Celtic during the sixties in the lead up to the European Cup. They would come home from the games and there me and my mum who also loved football got the rundown of the game.

for me the greatest day was watching Celtic win the European Cup on 25 May 1967. My brothers couldn’t afford to go to Lisbon but they were too young anyway, so we all packed up in the living room and the streets were deserted. not a bus or car in sight everybody was watching the game and on wee black and white TV’s.
It was nerve wracking as you all know inter Milan got a penalty first. But when we won we were all jumping about the living room. Then my dad and older brother went to the pub and me and my pals were all out dancing in the streets. Oh what a night that was.

The following year I met my husband to be called Patrick but Pat to all who knew him except his mum. He lived in Garthamlock as his parents had moved from the Gorbals to a nice house with an inside bathroom and toilet so they were delighted. Pat was 4 years old. By the time he was 8 in 1958 he would walk all the way with his pals to Parkhead and get lifted over the gates. He actually spent the rest his life in Parkhead watching Celtic over the years.
I noticed Khenny mentioned the Scottish cup final at Hamden in 1974 between Dundee United and Celtic, well that was our wedding day. It had to be booked well in advance so I didn’t know that was going to be the fixture date for the Scottish Cup. Anyway as we left the church and got into our wedding car the first thing Pat said was to the driver what was the score and thankfully we won so it was a great day and he was very happy even although he had to miss the game. I only got to one game with him and it was against Kilmarnock and it was freezing and I was chilled to the bone. So after that he was on his own which probably suited him better going with all his Celtic mates. But now looking back I so wish I had joined him more often at the Celtic games I feel I’ve missed so much.

Pat was a lifelong Celtic fan and had on many occasions run the gauntlet on the 89 bus going through Bridgeton cross but I’m sure there were many many stories he could have told you about had he been spared. There is a strange irony to his last outing to CP. both he and my older brother had season tickets and met up to go see Celtic most weekends. But on this one day our daughter needed his car so he said it’s ok I will walk it. So off he went but I thought he was going for the 89 bus but he didn’t he started to walk. He got lost and didn’t get to CP till half time my brother was worried and phoned me later that night to see if Pat was ok. My brother said Pat didn’t know where he was but had seen some guys with Celtic scarfs and and he followed them and that’s how he eventually got to the game. Pat was diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s at the age of 5and died aged 61. He was buried with his Celtic scarf and we played the song ‘Something inside so strong’ .

Apologies for the sad ending of this journey but I’m so glad I joined this forum it keeps me up to date with all things Celtic and Pats memory lives on.
I have got a brick with his name on at the North Stand and I was supposed to go with my younger brother on March 7th this year to see Celtic v St Mirren but the COVID had started and so I couldn’t make it through but I will get there once this is all over. 💚💚
Celtic rose , nothing surer than pats memory lives on , he is up in the sky , watching you , loving you , and screaming about our current hard times , my son is also Patrick , so his name lives on , RIP all our lost and loved Celtic family
 

50 Shades of Green

Well-known member
I was born and bred a Celtic fan, my wee Da took me from about the age of 3 or 4 yrs old. Usually took one of my mates as well, I have told the story about the time me and my mate had sussed Dad wasn't getting back from work in time to take us, so we got the Green white and Gold corporation bus into Glasgow then another out to Celtic park, we met my Dad at our usual spot who went mental at us, apparently 8 yr olds shouldn't be doing things like that, who knew eh.

I remember watching the European cup final in 67 in our front room with my Gran who was watching us as my mum was in the Rotten Row having my sister, something my Dad reminded her of often in later years, he swore he made it from the Hospital to our house in drakemire dr Castlemilk in 10 minutes as the streets were deserted.

Me and my dad went home and away during our first 9 in a row, magical times with class players. I remember a trip to Aberdeen were the bus stayed on till 10pm after a 3o'clock kickoff, what to do with a Ten yr old while awe his mates were at the pub, he bribed the usher at the pictures to look after me and I got to sit through the same cowboy movie 3 times with awe the ice cream I could eat, great idea he thought until I puked the bloody lot back up and stunk out the bus all the way to Castlemilk 😂.

At the 69 home tie v Benfica we met his mate in the Rangers end and I got perched on one of the barriers, his mate produced a flask of coffee not long after the game started and asked me to hold the coffee to he put his flask away, now I wasn't allowed coffee at that age so I took a fly drink only to gag on it and spit it out all over everything in sight, apparently he had whisky in it, who knew eh 😂.

Plenty of laughs and tears over the yrs supporting Celtic and I wouldn't change it for all the whisky flavoured coffee in the world.

In fact one of my recent happiest times was taking my youngest son to ibrox and skelping them silly.It just brought back so many memories of my dad taking me there. My first trip to ibrox with him was the day of the ibrox disaster, after which my mum wouldn't let me near it for yrs.

H.H
 

Celtic Ghostie

Well-known member
Not really a story just a crystal clear moment. December 2nd 1961 ( I'm no auld ah' wiz only 2 at the time ah' wisnae even smokin' yet :unsure: :unsure: :unsure: ). In the jungle, we're v Partick Thistle Frank Haffey in goals wearing a brand new bunnet and 4-0 up I think , ( ended up 5-1 ) dark heavy sky but suddenly went from freezing to less freezing and these big fat soft snowflakes started falling. Thistle launch one into the box and big Frank races off his line and "heidies it away" then strolls back to his goal taking his bunnet off to push the dent out of it 😂🍀
 

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