Your worst Celtic moments!

michael duffy

Well-known member
the 1973 Scottish cup final!!! bastaarts! a nightmare fae start tae finish,ah beautiful day, a few swallies,how tae get there, hhhmmm,65 bus through brigton cross, or, a 38 tae the mount florida end! aye right,

So we decided, the first bus, we're on it, a 38 arrives, tap deck,front ae the bus is green and white,that'll do, we pile on, charge up the stairs, and there's four Celtic fans pressed up against the windae, fightin like feck against aboot 20 ae the scum, so, let battle commence!
any way the cops come on a couple of stops later,and do a bit of segregation!

We eventually get there,surrounded by huns,makin wurr way through their lines,gettin punched, kicked,spat on,felt like Daniel Day feckin Lewis, runnin the gauntlet in last ae the feckin mohican's!

Anyway got through the last line,ripped a ticket oot a hun's haun , banjoed him and bolted tae the Celtic end,
the atmosphere, was the usual, feckin toxic! then that bastaart forsyth sklaffed a worldy, fae a yard oot!!!!! FFS!can this day get any worse!!!!!!

After the game we hit the toon, intae the Burns Howff, great pub, great music and a neutral venue! aye except that night,when a crowd ae they feckers sittin in an alcove started their billy boys shite!!! so of course in we waded! exchangin handshakes, telephone numbers, aye right!

Then the cops, aye remember them,started hucklin folks,includin yours truly,done the the lie in, in Partick, monday mornin, fined a tenner fur breach ae the feckin peace,ah know ah should let it go......but!!!! Hail Hail Bhoys and Ghirls!
 
the 1973 Scottish cup final!!! bastaarts! a nightmare fae start tae finish,ah beautiful day, a few swallies,how tae get there, hhhmmm,65 bus through brigton cross, or, a 38 tae the mount florida end! aye right,

So we decided, the first bus, we're on it, a 38 arrives, tap deck,front ae the bus is green and white,that'll do, we pile on, charge up the stairs, and there's four Celtic fans pressed up against the windae, fightin like feck against aboot 20 ae the scum, so, let battle commence!
any way the cops come on a couple of stops later,and do a bit of segregation!

We eventually get there,surrounded by huns,makin wurr way through their lines,gettin punched, kicked,spat on,felt like Daniel Day feckin Lewis, runnin the gauntlet in last ae the feckin mohican's!

Anyway got through the last line,ripped a ticket oot a hun's haun , banjoed him and bolted tae the Celtic end,
the atmosphere, was the usual, feckin toxic! then that bastaart forsyth sklaffed a worldy, fae a yard oot!!!!! FFS!can this day get any worse!!!!!!

After the game we hit the toon, intae the Burns Howff, great pub, great music and a neutral venue! aye except that night,when a crowd ae they feckers sittin in an alcove started their billy boys shite!!! so of course in we waded! exchangin handshakes, telephone numbers, aye right!

Then the cops, aye remember them,started hucklin folks,includin yours truly,done the the lie in, in Partick, monday mornin, fined a tenner fur breach ae the feckin peace,ah know ah should let it go......but!!!! Hail Hail Bhoys and Ghirls!

Shame on you ripping a ticket off of the HUN

He or she'd have spent 75 pence on that brief!!

HH?
 
1989-1995, terrible,terrible years. Was at a 5-1 defeat game at ibrox (trying to forget it, 1989 or 1990). Went to a European game where jacinovski (sp) scored four goals and we still went out. Hampden in the rain against dolly, got beat. Miller came on as a sub and got subbed. Think one of the seasons our top scorer didn't reach the ten mark!

aye, the banter years. Then along came the bunnet!!!!!!
 
Black Sunday at Fir Park, nuff said.

4 of my best mates were huns. I was the only Celtic fan. We had been boozing all night...I was winding them all up about winning the league the next day. They didnt want to talk about football. They knew the title was ours and it was depressing them.

We all crashed out at about 3 in the morning...I woke up about 7 and started with the "We've won the league again" waking them all up. "Come on boys, let's get on it"

They started drinking to drown their sorrows.
I started drinking to celebrate.

The hun game was on telly. Think it was against hibs...who cares. The celtic game was on the radio. So I was in the kitchen listening to game. Huns were in the living room watching their mob.
They scored. No one celebrated. Didnt matter. I gave a wee sarcastic cheers.

Last couple a minutes. Celtic 1-0 up. I came into the living room dancing around. "Champoineese". My mate walk into kitchen. Ran in shouting Motherwell had scored. TWICE!!!!! bullshit....no one believed him. Not me...not the huns. "TURN THE TELLY ON TURN THE TELLY ON" He shouted.....
We did.......and there it was.....my world fell apart. 2 days of winding them up came back at me like a fucking tidal wave. I put my beer down and sat on the floor. Head in hands. They danced around me. Singing the songs that they had been hearing all day...back at me. I went home to bed after that ??
 
the 1973 Scottish cup final!!! bastaarts! a nightmare fae start tae finish,ah beautiful day, a few swallies,how tae get there, hhhmmm,65 bus through brigton cross, or, a 38 tae the mount florida end! aye right,

So we decided, the first bus, we're on it, a 38 arrives, tap deck,front ae the bus is green and white,that'll do, we pile on, charge up the stairs, and there's four Celtic fans pressed up against the windae, fightin like feck against aboot 20 ae the scum, so, let battle commence!
any way the cops come on a couple of stops later,and do a bit of segregation!

We eventually get there,surrounded by huns,makin wurr way through their lines,gettin punched, kicked,spat on,felt like Daniel Day feckin Lewis, runnin the gauntlet in last ae the feckin mohican's!

Anyway got through the last line,ripped a ticket oot a hun's haun , banjoed him and bolted tae the Celtic end,
the atmosphere, was the usual, feckin toxic! then that bastaart forsyth sklaffed a worldy, fae a yard oot!!!!! FFS!can this day get any worse!!!!!!

After the game we hit the toon, intae the Burns Howff, great pub, great music and a neutral venue! aye except that night,when a crowd ae they feckers sittin in an alcove started their billy boys shite!!! so of course in we waded! exchangin handshakes, telephone numbers, aye right!

Then the cops, aye remember them,started hucklin folks,includin yours truly,done the the lie in, in Partick, monday mornin, fined a tenner fur breach ae the feckin peace,ah know ah should let it go......but!!!! Hail Hail Bhoys and Ghirls!

Watching Celtic lose European Cup Final to Feyenoord as an 11 year old

Totally unused to seeing Celtic lose football matches Also lost Scottish Cup final 3-1 to Aberdeen all within weeks but again within weeks saw Brazil beat Italy 4-1 in best World Cup final ever Small consolation but that was a brilliant World Cup Especially holders England getting horses 3-2 by West Germany in the QF after leading 2-0

HH?
 
League Cup Final in 86 was pretty feckin traumatic!

Think that's when the penny dropped that they might be more than just a blank chequebook!

Judas took a walk and blessed himself.........with hindsight, it's a wonder the Big Man didn't strike him down there and then for the act of heresy to come later!

Cold, wet and miserable. Bus broke doon on the way home just outside Perth and had to walk a few miles to get a train home that cost £9!!!!

Fucking bastard of a day that was.
 
Seville probably, just the way it ended was gutting. So much excitement in the build up, i worked on a construction site at the time and half the site fucked off to Seville ?
Then the game, Henrik being heroic, Bobo being Bobo, Deco being a wee cvnt, the incredible fans, winning that one would have been so special, if only... ?
 
Losing the league at Motherwell was absolutely devastating.

The 5.1 game where we went 1up and I was at a wedding surrounded by Sevconians and gave them verbals. We then collapsed and I got fucking pesters the whole day. Got hairy a couple of times as a few cunts tried to get a bit too cunty, I kept up defiance but it was one long day. :)

Getting beat at home against them was always a struggle.
 
Not a worst moment but certainly a WTF? moment was judas signing for them. My gaffer at the time was a posh chap, rugby man, knew absolutely nothing about football. And he came in from lunch one fine sunny day and told me he'd just heard on the car radio that judas had signed for the huns. So I'm pissing myself at him saying I can assure you he's not signed for them he's signed for Celtic ya clueless cvnt. Took the piss out of him for the rest of the day over it. Got home that night and turned on the 6 o'clock news WT absolute F!!! ?
 
Not a worst moment but certainly a WTF? moment was judas signing for them. My gaffer at the time was a posh chap, rugby man, knew absolutely nothing about football. And he came in from lunch one fine sunny day and told me he'd just heard on the car radio that judas had signed for the huns. So I'm pissing myself at him saying I can assure you he's not signed for them he's signed for Celtic ya clueless cvnt. Took the piss out of him for the rest of the day over it. Got home that night and turned on the 6 o'clock news WT absolute F!!! ?

To be honest my main worry that day was they would sign foreign catholic players and get better. They did. The Johnstone saga was another example of offering peanuts to players because they supported us.
 
To be honest my main worry that day was they would sign foreign catholic players and get better. They did. The Johnstone saga was another example of offering peanuts to players because they supported us.
It was a sea change moment and not just for religious reasons, for a supposed celtic man and former celtic player to see ranjurs as a better proposition than celtic was shocking and was a precursor to the number of shit years we had ahead of us.
 
Black Sunday for me. My Dad had died a couple of weeks before so was back home again at my Mum's for the weekend so had to listen to it on the radio. Emotions were quite raw and when Skippy scored that late double it was heart-breaking.

Another worst moment, but not really a Celtic moment was when Scotland beat Wales in the 1985. So pumped and excited that we'd be going to the world cup (may had a play off afterwards?) Only to hear the awful news of Big Jock's passing shortly afterwards. I was pretty distraught and in bits. I guess it was a reality check to a passionate teenager that there were more important things in life than fitba. ?
 
It was a sea change moment and not just for religious reasons, for a supposed celtic man and former celtic player to see ranjurs as a better proposition than celtic was shocking and was a precursor to the number of shit years we had ahead of us.

It heralded the worst period in my time supporting the club. Truely fucking woeful, led by a board of useless cheapskate shitebags, devoid of ambition and only interested in self gain.

Some things change some things stay the same.
 
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