I really had no choice. A much sought for, much loved late only child of good parents and with a Dad like mine, a man whom I adored for his kindness and sense of humour apparent even in my most tender years, I just had to support them, listening as I did on his knee to the wiles of Patsy Gallacher, the prolificacy of James Edward McGrory and the three earlier immortals of Young, Loney and Hay... the Empire Exhibition Trophy...the Coronation Cup ... Jimmy Delaney...Tommy McInally...Charlie Tully.But the present did not match the past. The early 1960s were a hideous parody of the Celtic of old. I was old enough now to go to games and to take part in the grizzly horrors of the Dunfermline Cup final, the St Mirren semi, the eerie Hampden walkout at the 0-3 Cup final and the one that pushed the club to beyond endurance - the 1-2 League Cup final of 1964 ... but then old Bob Kelly admitted he was wrong, and brought back Jock Stein. Billy McNeill rising like a bird to connect with Charlie Gallagher's corner. My life changed that day.
David Potter – Author, Willie Maley: The Man Who Made Celtic
GB
As a kid, my Mum used to get me a copy of Shoot! magazine every Wednesday. There used to be...
As a kid, my Mum used to get me a copy of Shoot! magazine every Wednesday. There used to be a pull-out poster right in the middle. One week it was John Collins - Celtic's left winger - and I proudly stuck it on my bedroom wall. One long July evening in 1994, my brother told me we were going to a football game. I had never been to one before so it was incredibly exciting. Our local team, Cork City, were playing Celtic in a pre-season game and, once we arrived at the ground in Bishopstown, my brother pointed out Billy Woods - City's highly-regarded youngster. He had a pony-tail and a swagger and he became my favourite player immediately. He scored that night - with an exquisite lob. But you know who else scored? John Collins. That guy from my bedroom poster. I got to see him up close. It was incredible.Celtic won 3-2. Afterwards, my brother walked me back towards the city centre. I was eight and needed a toilet break. So, we ducked into Jury's Hotel on the Western Road to use the facilities. And there, in the foyer, was the entire Celtic team in their official suits. That night, I didn't just see John Collins play in the flesh but I shook his hand too.
Eoin OCallaghan
IE
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