MATT CORR has been over the last week or so been taking us through the 1981/82 season in what turned out to be a 5 part series. That concludes this evening and it might just lift the spirits after today’s woeful performance and result at Kilmarnock.
To re-cap for those who have not been following throughout the week, here is…
Part 1 – The Italian Job – Read HERE.
Part 2 – A Sad Farewell to another Darling Johnny – Read HERE.
Part 3 – Floodlight Failures and Flute Bands…Read HERE.
and
Part 4 – Enter the Maestro, bring on the stretchers…Read HERE.
Now you have caught up, here’s the concluding chapter and you’ll be delighted to recall that it is a story with a very happy ending. Great work from Matt once again on The Celtic Star…
Chicken George and the conspiracy theory – Celtic’s Season 1981/82 (Part 5)
The title countdown continued at Broomfield, Celts running riot on the old ground for a 5-1 victory. McCluskey was back in the team, having missed the derby victory the previous weekend, celebrating his return with a fabulous effort early in the second-half, Celtic’s third of the night. Aitken had opened the scoring in the second minute with a header and the Bhoys didn’t look back, Crainie quickly netting his third goal in three games, Provan adding a fourth on the hour and young left-back Mark Reid rounding things off with a spot-kick for his first Celtic goal. It was an excellent team performance.
Three days later Dundee rolled up to Celtic Park, fresh from a midweek victory at Ibrox and making the perfect start with a Smith header in the third minute, a lead they held for the best part of an hour. The pivotal moment in the game was Celtic’s equaliser, a second successive penalty conversion from Reid, awarded for a high challenge on Burns despite Dundee protests. The Bhoys took advantage of the break to go in front within ten minutes, McCluskey nodding home following a corner and the game looked all over when Provan capitalised on a defensive error to make it 3-1 with just thirteen minutes remaining. However, Ferguson immediately pulled a goal back and it was ‘squeaky-bum time’ until McCluskey settled the issue late on with his second headed goal of the match. Our mood was further lifted on full-time, as news came through of another Cappielow defeat for Aberdeen. So our lead had stretched to nine points, Dons having eight games left in which to close the gap, two more than Celtic.
In midweek, it was the turn of Dundee’s Tannadice Street neighbours to visit Parkhead. Again, only 14,000 were in the ground for such a vital game, incredibly disappointing by today’s standards but very much a sign of the times back then. Celtic were in impressive form from the outset, the onslaught on United’s goal finally paying off just before half-time, as McCluskey continued his fine scoring run with a close-range finish. Chicken George, so-called after a character from the popular TV drama Roots if I recall correctly, then added a second after the break, beating McAlpine with a neat lob. However, the highlight of the night came with just ten minutes left on the clock, Provan curling an unstoppable free-kick high into the net to seal the points, despite a late Davie Dodds consolation goal for the Arabs.
It was Firhill for Thrills on the Saturday, 18,000 packed into the compact Maryhill ground to watch Danny Crainie’s finest hour, his second-half hat-trick giving Celts a somewhat flattering 3-0 victory against the struggling Jags, the woodwork and Bonner combining to preserve a fortunate clean sheet.
If we had rode our luck a bit against Thistle, then the May Day performance against Hibernian at Celtic Park was at the other end of the spectrum. Bertie’s team had been a thorn in our side all season, with two wins and a draw from three games, however, today belonged to Glasgow’s Green and Whites. On Danny McGrain’s 32nd birthday, his great friend Tommy Burns got the party started after fifteen minutes, with a goal-of-the-season contender, twisting and turning before smashing the ball high past a bewildered McArthur in the Hibs goal. Three minutes later, man-of-the-moment Crainie kept his own tremendous scoring run going with an opportunist second. Hibs were on the ropes and the Celts smelled blood, Aitken, McCluskey and MacLeod, with another double, taking the tally to six with half an hour still to play. Surprisingly, there would be no further punishment for the Edinburgh men, the 16,000 Celtic supporters happily leaving the ground to chant their anthems of triumph down London Road and the Gallowgate. With three games to play, two more points were required for two-in-a-row.
The first chance to grab these points and the title came just two days later, on a Bank Holiday Monday. Saint Mirren were the visitors to Celtic Park, having shipped twelve goals in three Love Street defeats earlier in the season, albeit winning the only previous meeting at Parkhead, 3-1 on Willie Garner Day.
I remember it as a miserable, rainy afternoon and, perhaps for that reason, we deserted our usual Celtic End spot for a seat in the stand. There was a healthy (by 81/82 standards) 27,000 crowd in the ground but the atmosphere was strangely tense, given the fantastic performance at the weekend.
Celts started where they had left off on the Saturday, bombarding Billy Thomson’s goal from all angles. However, it was proving to be one of those frustrating days, good chances going a-begging as players tried too hard to break the deadlock and the St Mirren defence settling comfortably into their task. The crowd grew increasingly anxious and, as often happens, this made things worse rather than better. Long before the end, it was clear there would be no party in the Celtic Club that night. In fact, we almost lost both points right at the death, Bonner saving the day following a rare Buddies breakaway.
The goalless draw with Saints meant that the single point required could now be gained at Tannadice, scene of the previous season’s memorable title victory, the following Saturday. A huge Celtic support once again made the journey up to Tayside, full of hope and expectation, the gates closed well before kick-off as we crushed into the uncovered terracing behind the goal. Always one of my favourite away grounds, despite witnessing quite a few defeats there over the years, there was a brilliant atmosphere as the teams emerged from the tunnel on our left into the sunshine and bedlam. Whilst this seemed to inspire the home side, on this day of days, Celtic failed to turn up. United piled forward continually from the off and the Bhoys struggled to muster any kind of resistance, the situation deteriorating badly as first Sullivan hobbled off injured then Hegarty headed the hosts in front within twenty minutes.
Counting our blessings at reaching the break still only one behind, Sturrock, a wonderful striker, soon sickened our happiness by firing in off the post within a minute of the restart. And when star striker McCluskey then limped off moments later, the ‘game was a bogey’ as they say. Defender McAdam was pushed forward to renew his earlier, successful partnership with young Crainie, in a desperate attempt to salvage a point. Sadly, only one more goal was scored, a third for the men in tangerine as Milne beat Bonner from the edge of the box with ten minutes remaining. A dreadful day all round.
It was an inquest rather than a party on the subdued bus journey back to Springburn. From a seemingly unassailable position just a week earlier, two successive opportunities had been passed up, the team appearing to have run out of steam short of the line. There was still a point to be won before the flag could be claimed and, worryingly, Aberdeen had continued to rack up the points and the goals, winning their games in hand to take Celtic all the way to the final game of the season. In one of those fixture quirks so beloved by the football gods, the Dons’ final match would be against Rangers at Pittodrie, the Ibrox side having nothing to play for. Celtic would be at home to St Mirren, for the second time in a fortnight, having failed to win either of their two previous Parkhead meetings. Scary biscuits.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, the media and the anoraks had a field day in the run-up to the Saturday games, looking at all the permutations which would prevent a second consecutive championship for Cesar’s Celtic. The more things change etc. It all came down to this; one point for the Bhoys would make them uncatchable, regardless of events at Pittodrie, whilst a win for Saints by a single goal and a winning margin of five in the Granite City would see the title return to Aberdeen. It couldn’t happen…could it?
The hype worked, as 40,000 fans rolled up to Parkhead that afternoon. From my stance in the Jungle, I have to say, it felt like there was that number in there alone. The atmosphere was electric, as the Hoops were urged for one more push. As with the previous game against St Mirren, there was tension in the air which inevitably would spread to the pitch. We eventually reached the interval, still goalless.
To this day, I firmly believe that this was the only title in history to be won at half-time. The news came through that Aberdeen were four goals ahead at Pittodrie, Hewitt with a hat-trick, Rangers ‘resting’ half of their first team ahead of the Cup Final against the Dons the following week. Anger at this turn of events changed into defiance, creating the most incredible noise, as Parkhead roared like the old days. As the teams ran back out, for the first time in weeks, I truly believed that this would be the day.
The volume is turned up as the Hoops go in for the kill, midfield trio Burns, McStay and MacLeod now controlling the game and it is only a matter of time. Cometh the hour, cometh the man, as half-fit George McCluskey takes a ball in and smashes it home with his left foot and ‘It’s lift-off in the Jungle’. The songs are still being belted out as McAdam nods past Thomson but sees it cleared off the line…or is it? The referee looks across then makes a beeline back to the centre circle. It’s 2-0 Celtic. The place is absolutely jumping but Chicken George isn’t finished yet, another dazzling move from midfield ends with the striker burying a shot behind Thomson and now it is game over. The remaining fifteen minutes are a giant singalong, as we say hello to two-in-a-row, as relief turns to joy and it feels great.
There is a brief field invasion at full-time, then Cesar strides out with that look and grown men run for cover. Skipper McGrain is hoisted aloft Celtic shoulders and the trophy is presented on the pitch. There is a proper lap of honour in front of our own, this is how it feels to be Celtic on title-winning day. And we did it the Celtic way, McCluskey’s opener was the 100th goal in all competitions, despite season-ending injuries for main strikers Nicholas and McGarvey, despite missing the inspirational McGrain, Provan and MacLeod for months. This is also a title won by sheer guts, determination and courage.
And the youngsters have stepped into the boots of the stricken giants. Just as last season saw the emergence of Nicholas, Bonner and Reid, there are Bhoys doing men’s work in the shape of McStay, Crainie and Moyes. Some will go on to be legends, whilst for others, this was their moment in the sun.
This season has also been the peak for the Celtic youngsters of an earlier era, as McCluskey, Burns and Aitken perform at the absolute height of their powers. George is the top striker and goal-scorer in the country, at a time when the opposition is formidable, minus his two main partners for much of the time. Tommy has outshone his nemesis Strachan to become the best midfielder in Scotland, week after week identified as the outstanding player on the field by the reporting press and fans alike. The Young Bear is now a captain-in-waiting whilst ‘bearly’ into his twenties, standing in for Danny through his injury absence with confidence and aplomb well beyond his tender years. They are ably supported by the survivors from the ‘Ten Men Won the League’ team, notably Provan, MacLeod and the legend McGrain. There is real disappointment when Jock picks only Danny and Davie for the World Cup squad heading for Spain next month. For me, Tommy and George, in particular, deserved to be on that flight.
From a Celtic point of view, there is much to look forward to next season. Nicholas and McGarvey will return to bolster the attack, stronger than ever, a mouth-watering prospect. The youngsters with this title-winning season under their belt, will be all the better for that experience. Billy is building a Celtic side that looks and feels like Celtic and we can identify with these players. We will be the team to beat.
Hail Hail!
Matt Corr
