Days After his Dukla Double Celtic’s Willie Wallace plays for Scotland against World Champions England at Wembley

On the Friday morning, we were up around 7.30am, washed, shaved, fed and went training at 10.00am at the ground of Hendon FC, just five minutes from the hotel. We trained for a couple of hours – nothing too strenuous – then we were called to the centre of the field by the team manager, Bobby Brown.

He proceeded to read out the team that would start the match and, to my absolute surprise, I was included at outside-right. To complete a Celtic quartet, Ronnie Simpson was in goal, Tommy Gemmell at left-back and Bobby Lennox at outside-left. I hadn’t played in a wide position for quite a while – four years, to be precise – so I was stunned for two reasons but, once it all began to sink in, I was just over the moon. To be playing at Wembley for Scotland was every wee boy’s dream and here I was, about to do it.

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Not surprisingly, I didn’t have a great night’s sleep but next morning I was ready to go. We left the hotel around 1pm to drive to Wembley, which was also not so far from the hotel. It was quiet until we reached Wembley Way and then – what a sight – Scottish supporters and flags flying everywhere.

As the bus moved slowly moved towards the north end of the stadium where the dressing rooms were, the supporters were going crazy. As we neared the ground, I saw my next-door neighbour Tom Fergus and his mates, who had parked their caravanette just next to the entrance to the dressing rooms. Earlier, I had obtained tickets for them for the game but they had left Scotland early on the Friday morning so they didn’t know I was involved. When I walked over to them, they asked me what I was doing at Wembley. You should have seen their faces when I said: “I’m playing.” They didn’t know whether to believe me or not but I was quick to put them in the picture! They wished me all the best and I headed for the dressing rooms.

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The whole changing area at Wembley in those days was a bit of a disappointment, old-fashioned with high ceilings and ordinary fittings. But when we walked out on to the pitch about 1.30pm, the surface was magnificent, flat and true.

The atmosphere was electric – there seemed to be more Scots than English supporters – and we soaked up the thunderous applause before returning to the dressing rooms at about 1.45pm. We had to be back on the field by 2.40pm to meet the royal guest, the Duchess of Kent, and although obviously delighted to shake hands with her, I was a shade disappointed as my favourite royals at the time were Princess Alexandra and Princess Margaret.

After the presentations, we broke off to begin the game. It suddenly dawned on me that the manager was not around and there had been no team talk – nothing. In fact, the game had never been mentioned. Then Bobby Brown appeared from nowhere and said: “Have a good result and we will have a great night in London after it.” That was it and, after all the preliminaries, I said to Billy Bremner: “What’s happening?” He just shrugged his shoulders and replied: “Just play where you’ve been picked.”

I lined up at outside-right against Ray Wilson, the World Cup-winning full-back. The game started with play going from end to end and it was not long before I realised Ray was giving me lots of room. He didn’t want to go forward, so that was fine by me. We were keeping possession of the ball just as well as the English players, maybe even a bit better. In one of our attacks, as I drifted into the English box with no sign of the full-back, I received the ball, quickly had it under control and shot. It was heading for the bottom right-hand corner of the net but suddenly their goalkeeper, Gordon Banks, got down to it.

Fortunately for us, he couldn’t hold it and, as he spilled it in front of him, there was the ever-sharp Dennis Law to put it into the net for our first goal.

That settled us, we played some really good football and were unlucky not to go further ahead. In the second half, we continued to play well. Bobby Lennox scored our second goal and it looked all sewn up but Jack Charlton nicked one back and it was all on again. I was involved in our third goal. Jim McCalliog received the ball outside the English penalty box to the left of the goal and he and I worked a wall pass to put him clear and he touched the ball neatly past Gordon Banks into the net, making the score 3–1. The game should have finished there but back came England to score again. However, it was all too late for them and the game finished 3–2 for Scotland.

When I was a boy, I had dreamt of playing against Billy Wright, Stanley Matthews and my favourite player, Tom Finney, not realising they would all be retired by the time I was old enough to play for Scotland. (In 2008, I had the privilege of meeting Sir Tom Finney at a sports dinner in Preston).

I had already played against England at Hampden in 1966 and we lost on that occasion but my dream as a child about playing for Scotland against England had been fulfilled. Going on to the pitch at Wembley was not as daunting as it had been at Hampden. I was relaxed and ready to go, unlike the year before at Hampden, where I was nervous and took a long time to settle into the game.

Maybe I was beginning to get used to the big occasion ¬– due to playing with Celtic – and growing more confident in myself. As you can imagine, the noise inside the stadium was deafening. The supporters invaded the pitch on the final whistle and I was swept off my feet by a huge, burly Scotsman. “How are you, Wongo (my old nickname from school)?” said Alex (Parrot) Kilpatrick, an old friend from school who had moved to London.

Alex crushed me, then dropped me. He said “well done” then disappeared into the crowd. Alex’s bear hug was actually filmed and is shown on the DVD of the 1967 England–Scotland match at Wembley. I have never seen or heard from Alex since!

The 3–2 scoreline flattered England and I’m proud to say I was part of this great Scottish team. We had played brilliantly and, yes, as Bobby Brown had predicted, we did have a great night in London! We attended a function at the Café Royal and were then invited to a cocktail party at one of London’s theatres.

The stars of the show were leaving and Cilla Black and Frankie Howerd were taking over. By this time, we had all had a little to drink and our captain Billy Bremner informed Cilla in no uncertain terms that he preferred another singer, Sandy Shaw. Cilla naturally took umbrage to these remarks and we were all asked to leave – which we did! We moved on to the Astor Club, where we met a friend of all the players, a businessman from Edinburgh called Peter Williamson, who organised a few drinks for us away from the bustle of the supporters. I’m afraid I don’t remember much after the first hour.

To be continued…

Willie Wallace

About Author

The Celtic Star founder and editor, who has edited numerous Celtic books over the past decade or so including several from Lisbon Lions, Willie Wallace, Tommy Gemmell and Jim Craig. Earliest Celtic memories include a win over East Fife at Celtic Park and the 4-1 League Cup loss to Partick Thistle as a 6 year old. Best game? Easy 4-2, 1979 when Ten Men Won the League. Email editor@thecelticstar.co.uk

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