It was quite an even first half, in which Jimmy Johnstone gave us the lead before their outside-right equalised just before the break. Instead of being level, we should have been leading 2–1 at half-time as we had a perfectly good goal disallowed by the referee. The goal was disallowed for a high foot – in this case, the referee chose to apply a European rule that was not used in Scotland as long as both players had their feet up, as had been the case here. Anyway, I thought the goal should have stood.
In the second half, it felt like the forward runners such as myself were being given more space by the Dukla defenders. I thought maybe they were content with a 1–1 result to take back to Prague for the return match – but that little bit of extra space was just what I wanted.
My first goal came when I chased a long ball from the back and managed to go past my marking defender. As I raced towards the ball, I noticed I was outside the Dukla keeper’s right-hand post and realised I would have to take the chance quickly, before the angle narrowed even further. So I chose to strike the ball with the outside of my right foot – it wasn’t an easy chance but I managed to make sweet contact with the ball and, much to my delight, it fairly flew into the roof of the net.
My second goal came from a direct free kick outside the penalty box, to the right of centre. Bertie Auld or Bobby Murdoch usually took those free kicks around the box and – for some unknown reason – I was standing next to Bertie, who was placing the ball, when he said:
“Can you see the hole they’ve left at the far post?”
“Aye,” I said. Bertie went on: “OK, I’ll square it to you and you just find the hole”.
Bertie then shimmied over the ball and slipped it to me. Again, I struck it sweetly but not with a great deal of pace – just enough to send it smoothly into the corner of the net.
Those two second-half goals – made all the more special by it being my European debut for Celtic and my daughter’s birthday – gave us a 3–1 win. It was just a fantastic feeling. My first goals in the European Cup had also helped to make it a great night for the Parkhead fans. Later, when we left the stadium making for the car park, thousands of them were still milling around and cheering.
On the drive home, my wife Olive asked if we were in the final. “Not yet,” I said. We still had to play Dukla in Prague but we had a good lead to take there and, as long as something didn’t go badly wrong, we would be in the final. I was surprised she should have asked a question like that and even more so when her next comment was simply “good”. She was normally more inquisitive than that. Maybe I should have encouraged Olive to come to more Celtic games – but that would have interfered with her own Saturday sport as a hockey player with Lenzie Academy FP (Former Pupils).
Next morning at training, we were all buzzing after the previous night’s win and the atmosphere in the training ground at Barrowfield could only be described as brilliant. Not only were we reliving the Dukla game, we were also talking about the forthcoming clash between England and Scotland at Wembley Stadium. In just three days’ time, the two countries would meet for the first time since England had become World Champions by defeating Germany at Wembley in 1966.
When I returned to Celtic Park for a shower after training, I noticed Jimmy Johnstone on the treatment table, so I popped into the room and asked him when he was flying down to London. He told me he wasn’t fit and I would be going down in his place.
“Aye, right,” I said, certain he was winding me up and left for my shower. Just as I’d managed to cover myself almost completely in soap, “The Boss” – manager Jock Stein – came in and said: “Get yourself home and get yourself organised to be on the five o’clock flight to London. You’ll be taking Jimmy’s spot in the squad.” Driving home, I remember wearing a big, wide smile at having been included, even if I would be among the reserves. At the very least, I would have the chance to watch the game live and enjoy a weekend in London.
I returned to Parkhead about 3 o’clock, received my instructions and proceeded to the airport for the flight to London. Arriving at Heathrow airport, I caught a cab to the Hendon Bridge Hotel in Golders Green, where the Scottish party was staying. When I got there, the boys had all gone to the movies but one of the staff had stayed behind, waiting for me to arrive.
I booked in and discovered I was to share a room with my Celtic team-mate “TG” – Tommy Gemmell. I dropped off my gear and went back downstairs for dinner, then watched TV for about an hour. Around 10.30pm, the squad, most of whom I already knew, arrived back from the movies. I think the only player I hadn’t met before was Jim McCalliog. After a light supper, we all retired for the night. Before dropping off to sleep, TG told me about what had happened before I arrived. Surprisingly, it didn’t seem to amount to very much.
Willie Wallace – Lisbon Lion