The passing of John Hughes is a sad moment for all the Celtic family, particularly those of an age to have seen most of the games the big man played for the Bhoys.
For myself and my Celtic supporting friends from schooldays the name “Yogi” brings back so many memories of times off the field as well as on it.
In a sense John Hughes and I started our Celtic careers at the same time. The 1960/61 season saw him make his first appearances on the pitch, while I was making my first appearances on the terracing. Although he was a few years older than me he was, at 17, still a youngster making his start. I was therefore keen for him to do well as, I thought, if he could make it then so could I. People who know me only from mid-teens will be surprised that up to that point I had a bit more weight. And while not fat I was occasionally ribbed for my slight chubbiness. In the early days the expression sometimes used to describe Yogi was “beefy”. Perhaps undeserved but it gave me some hope that I could maybe emulate him. That feeling did not last long though as I soon came to realise my ability was not in line with my ambition.
Another reason John had particular appeal for me was his school – St Pats, Coatbridge. That was the very school I was aspiring to go to in a couple of years as long as I passed the “Quali” or “11 Plus”.
Our first season did not bring too much joy. Although it had started quite well with a League Cup win at Ibrox, we failed once again to qualify from the group for the knock-out stages. By the turn of the year the title was also out of our grasp. We did have a good run of form though in the second half of the season that saw us get to the Cup Final. However an Eddie Connachan goalkeeping master class, allied to some bad luck and poor shooting meant the Cup would be in the hands of a certain Mr Stein, the Dunfermline Athletic manager.
Yogi’s form had contributed greatly to the Cup run as had the fact that we were now fielding a more settled line up. In the first half of the season there had been a lot of chopping and changing especially in the forward line. Even 60 or so years later my “first” Celtic team line up trips off the tongue without any hesitation.
Haffey, McKay, Kennedy, Crerand McNeill, Peacock, Gallagher, Fernie, Hughes, Chalmers, Byrne.
By the time I had started St Pats Yogi was very much a fixture in the Celtic first team. It is fair to say that the fans had divided opinions about him – sometimes the same fan would have different views on him in the same match. My uncle James was one of those who thought that Yogi was too inconsistent to be a first team regular. But that was an accusation that could be levelled at many Celtic players in those times.
I preferred him to be in the starting line-up. Inconsistent or not he was entertaining. When he got going on his mazy runs he could be unstoppable. Although we were inconsistent and not picking up trophies there were some great games and performances. Big Yogi had the ability to thrive in conditions that other players found difficult to cope with. An early example of that for me was a home game v Kilmarnock on a rain sodden pitch at Celtic Park.
As was the case with home games against the Ayrshire club Celtic wore their change “Shamrock” strip. Both teams also wore black armbands and observed a pre-match minute silence as a mark of respect for President J F Kennedy who had been assassinated the previous day. Yogi went on the rampage, tearing Killie apart. He scored a hat trick and set up another in a 5-0 rout of a team who were more likely candidates for the title than Celtic.
There was a spectacular solo goal in an exciting Scottish Cup tie on an extremely muddy pitch at a packed Cappielow and another solo slalom goal that gave Celtic a 1-0 win in Bratislava in the quarter finals of the European Cup Winners Cup.
By this time the nickname Yogi Bear had become so well used that virtually no supporter ever thought to use his real name. The name had come about from the cartoon character bear who was always upsetting the “Rangers”. At school we had a slight parody of the cartoon theme song.
” Yogi Bear is smarter than the average bear, Yogi Bear is always in the Rangers hair, In the Rangers goalmouth you will find him there, Scoring more goals than the average bear”.
My “second” Celtic team was now established and this one was immortalised in song –
“Fallon, Young, Gemmell (who proudly wear the green), Clark, McNeill, Kennedy (the best there’s ever been). Johnstone, Murdoch, Chalmers, John Divers and John Hughes (and 60,000 Celtic fans who proudly sing the news).
Truth be told there were not many 60,000 attendances or goals against the Rangers in those years but with wee Jinky on one wing and Big Yogi on the other at least you could reckon on getting entertained – and anyway good times for Yogi and the rest of us were just around the corner.
Probably the most famous of Yogi’s ‘weather related” performances was his “sand shoe shuffle” on a hard frozen pitch at home to Aberdeen on 30 January 1965. He scored 5 in the 8-0 win and the following day it was announced that Jock Stein would be coming to Celtic as manager. A few months later the Scottish Cup was won and we knew there would be more to follow.
My appreciation of Yogi grew at the start of the 1965/66 season. On my first real away trip on a Supporters Bus he scored one of his crackers following a dazzling solo run. That goal won me the” first goal sweep” on the bus. John Divers had actually scored the opening goal but the holder of that ticket had decided to stay on in Dundee so I got the money. Around 6 weeks later I was even more delighted with Yogi as he scored the two penalties that gave us a 2-1 League Cup Final victory over Rangers. He had also tormented Kai Johansen the Rangers right back and the overall performance in this game let us know that Celtic would no longer be physically or mentally intimidated by the Ibrox men.
That was reinforced at the New Year with a 5-1 win in the “Old Firm” game at Celtic Park, Celtic’s first success in this fixture for 12 years. This was another hard frozen pitch and Yogi once again showed his poise and ability in such conditions. All the Celtic players wore training shoes and there was some discussion in the press about the best footwear for these conditions and wondering if Rangers boots had been the issue. A school mate, Martin O’Neill (no relation to the Blessed Martin) sent a letter to the “Celtic View” saying it was not the Boots that beat Rangers, it was the Hughes! (for that pun to be appreciated though you do have to be aware of the way the name Hughie is pronounced in the West of Scotland)
The League was won and as everyone knows the glory years were with us. Although Yogi did not actually play in Lisbon, he had very much contributed to us getting there. And he would get the chance to play in a European Final in 1970. He had been one of the heroes in the run to Milan including a headed goal in the epic Semi Final against Leeds Utd. Considering his height Yogi scored relatively few headed goals. On the other hand Jinky, who was invariably the smallest man on the pitch, seemed quite prolific in that regard.
Milan of course was a disaster for Celtic, and Yogi. He missed a really good chance to put Celtic back in the lead in extra time. From out vantage point at the other end of the San Siro we thought for a few seconds that he had scored as it seemed a simple task to do so. Yogi said Big Jock never trusted him after that and they never saw eye to eye again. Yogi did play and score in several games the following season but in October 1971 he was transferred to Crystal Palace alongside Willie Wallace.
Continue reading for the story of Yogi’s Bar in Coatbridge…
Although Yogi was no longer at Celtic Park us St Pats bhoys were still enjoying his hospitality.
I first entered Yogi’s Bar on the evening of my last day at St Pat’s. To celebrate our leaving a large number of (now former) pupils met up in the Cross Keys in Sunnyside. Some of us had actually being going there on Friday evenings for a few weeks already, attracted by the large alcove near the door where we could gather out of sight of the bar staff and most of the patrons, and also the liberal interpretation of the age factor that the management appeared to have.
On that night a group of us decided that now we were no longer schoolboys we should venture into the wider drinking world and decided to do a pub crawl. After trying the likes of the Forrester’s Arms and the Fountain Bar several of us found ourselves pushing open the swing doors of a pub in Canal Street – formerly the Red Lion, now Yogi’s Bar. As a novice drinker at this point my choice of drink was quite limited. I generally copied the mates who seemed more educated in these matters than me and my drinks menu vocabulary was limited to pints of heavy or pints of lager.
As long as the taste was reasonable and the drink was cool and felt refreshing I was content enough. That changed that night in Yogi’s. I was enjoying the amber liquid that I was now consuming so much that when it was suggested that we take the next leg of the crawl round to Duncan’s I opted to stay put. I noticed that there were 2 taps dispensing this amber liquid.
One with the name Tennents, the other was titled Harp. I was sure the pint I was drinking had been poured from the latter tap so ordered another. And so began a love affair that would last several decades (At this stage I should apologise to the companions who travelled with me the next 6 years or so following the Bhoys all over Scotland. After away games we always liked to take the opportunity to have a pint in a local hostelry. For the rest of the guys that was simple. Just stop at the next pub and give it a try. With me however it was a bit more complicated. It had to be a Scottish & Newcastle shop in order to be sure that Harp would be available!)
The following Friday evening I was back in Yogi’s with a few of my former school mates. The numbers grew rapidly over the folowing Fridays and soon we were regulars in the small pub. It would be kind to say that the pub was basic. As you opened the main front door a half-glazed pair of swing doors faced you. Immediately to the right was another door that opened into a small space at the far end of the bar. This area was used for off-sales although sometimes a visitor would pop on there for a more private chat with one of the staff.
Pushing through the swing doors brought you into the main part of the pub. The L shaped bar was to the right. The wall on the left was once covered with large mirrors of the classic pub type. However I gather they were sold to an American and thereafter only the bare wall remained. At the far end of this area was a small room entered by a sliding door. There was a table in the middle with benches either side. To the left of this room was the toilet. This was small room with a trough. I think there may have been a small hand basin but to be honest I am not sure. If a patron required the services of anything more than a urinal then arrangements had to be made with the Circle Bar next door.
To the right of the main bar area was a passageway that led down to 2 rooms. These were bigger than the one in the front area, especially the one at the end of the corridor. In these rooms were some tables and some seats as well as bench seating against the walls.
In the rooms there were buttons for ringing a bell that brought one of the bar staff down to the room to take your order, although on busy nights we opted for going to the bar ourselves. Those were carefree days for us. On a Friday night I could go over to Yogi’s with a one-pound note in my pocket knowing that I had sufficient funds to get 8 pints of lager and still have enough change to get some chips if I fancied, and the bus fare home. Often though I would walk home. Along with several others I would walk along the Main Street towards Coatdyke. At Jackson Street some of the guys would continue east while the rest of us walked down towards Whifflet.
The numbers dwindled there with the likes of Andy Bradley and Jim Harte heading along Calder Street to Greenend. By the time we got to the far end of Shawhead there was only Tom Tumilty and myself left. Tom would say his good bye there and I would continue over the flyover and down North Road to Bellshill.
Continue reading for the story of Yogi’s Bar in Coatbridge…
Yogi himself was not in the pub too often especially on Friday nights. He left most of the running of the actual bar to his mum and dad, along with an aunt and uncle. The only time I actually spoke to him was on a Saturday evening after the first game of the 1968/69 season. We had won 2-0 at Ibrox and when we got back to Coatbridge I decided to pop in for a quick pint before heading home. The pub was quieter than usual so I got the chance for a brief chat and his autograph on that day’s match programme.
That brought me into line with Michael Boyle who had acquired a Yogi autograph by different means. In his last year at St Pats he was given a textbook on “Hamlet” in the English class. As he was inscribing his name on the gummed label inside the front cover he looked up to see who else had used the book. There he noticed the signature of “John Hughes” from some years previous and before handing the book back in at end of term he “acquired” the label.
What Yogi’s lacked in plushness it more than made up for in friendliness. With Yogi’s relations working there you could even say it had a family atmosphere. I found the 2 ladies, Margaret and Mary, especially helpful. They always ensured that my lager came from the Harp tap! And there were a few characters in the place too. One of the most recognisable was Jimmy Ramapu (I never saw his name written down so could have the spelling wrong and I imagine Jimmy was not his actual first name anyway) As far as I was aware he was from Burma and had come to Scotland sometime after the War.
One of the aspects of life in Coatbridge that he took to was the love of Celtic. He had become a Celtic Pools agent, he always seemed to have a copy of the Celtic View in his pocket, and regularly round his neck was one of those silk type Celtic scarves that was quite popular in the 1960’s. As well as drinking in the pub he often gave a hand to the staff. It would often be Jimmy who would answer the order bell in the rooms. And on at least a couple of occasions when he was popping round to the chip shop he came into our room and asked if any of us wanted him to get something for us.
There were a couple of wee older guys who always stood at the corner of the bar who fascinated me. Typical of the time they always wore suits, shirts, ties to the game and in the pub. Their hair was ” brylcreemed” into shape. I loved listening to them order their drinks. The one with the specs drank the standard whisky with a half pint of heavy chaser. The other drank what in most places was called a Black and Tan. However that expression had very negative connotations in Coatbridge. Instead people would ask for a “Guinness Tan” or a “Sweet Stout Tan” but mostly it was called a “half n half” . So listening to these guys order their drinks was like poetry ” Ah’ll hiv a hauf n a half an he’ll hiv a half n half!”
There was a Supporters Club based in the pub and a bus would leave the pub on match days. As I was in a group who used our cars for away games I only used Yogi’s bus on a few occasions. Pittodrie (as nobody fancied doing the driving for that journey and not being able to get a drink), and some Rangers games (safety in numbers). One of those days, due to building work at Celtic Park the home game with Rangers was switched to Hampden. As Queens Park had a game later in the afternoon the Old Firm kick-off was moved to midday.
The police also suggested this time to see if it would help with crowd problems. With pub opening times being 11.00am there would not be much time for anyone to get a drink before the match. Several pubs, including Yogi’s, solved this problem by the ingenious method of opening the premises an hour or so early. When I got to the pub just after 10.00am the bar was already busy. It was too early in the day for me though so I joined a few others who were already on the bus including old Geordie McGivern and his young nephew.
Suddenly a police car turned into the street and a couple of officers got out and when into the Circle Bar next door. Geordie told his nephew to let Yogi’s know. The young fella jumped off the bus and raced into the pub shouting ” the Polis are in the Circle!”. Yogi’s immediately emptied and by the time the 2 officers got to the door they met around 30 innocent looking guys chatting away peacefully in the street while waiting board the bus. Later that night when I got back to Yogi’s for a few celebratory Harps there were a stream of punters coming in and explaining how much Guinness or Buckfast had been in their glasses when they had had to evacuate the premises earlier in the day! Margaret and Mary did their best to recompense them in the way of topped up drinks.
Continue reading for the story of Yogi’s Bar in Coatbridge…
Probably the best celebrations I experienced were on the night of the 1969 Cup Final when Celtic had trounced Rangers 4-0 earlier in the afternoon. I went straight to Yogi’s after the match to get as much celebration as I could. The pub was relatively quiet at that time and when I first entered I was surprised to see a few guys bedecked in red, white and blue. Turned out they were friends up from England and had left Hampden early as Celtic were so much on top. They did not stay long and the bar soon started to fill up.
First of the St Pats bhoys to arrive was Joe McCormack. He had been playing football that day and only knew the score of the game. He was eager to get my eye-witness account. It was not long before we were joined by many more of our “Former Pupils” group and a great night was had by all. At the end of the night Yogi’s dad, Jimmy, got up onto the bar counter and belted out ” We shall not be moved”, which we all joined in with. Considering he was a big guy there were concerns about the ability of the counter to support him. Finally, to the chorus of “A Soldier’s Song” we flowed happily out into the street. Terry Smith and Gerry Yuill were going to a party in Uddingston and they were able to drop me at my front door en-route which meant I got home just in time to join the rest of the family in watching the Scotsport highlights.
Although Yogi’s was considered a “Celtic Pub” there were no obvious signs indicating this in the bar itself. There were only 2 football team photos on the wall. One was of Sunderland FC who Yogi’s brother Billy played for. The other one was of Cornhill Utd FC, an amateur team who played in the Saturday Morning League. Several of the ex-St Pats and Yogi’s boys including myself, George Weightman, Brian McHenery, Tommy Hamilton, John Fagan. So too did another Yogi’s regular – James Burns or Bunny as he was known. Bunny assisted me with the Cornhill United pontoon sweepstake that helped with fundraising. This was based on the 125 football results that were printed in the Sunday Mail each week. This was in an age when computers were still in the realms of Sci Fi and hearing the expression Excel Spreadsheet made you think of covering for a double bed.
So every Sunday evening Bunny would get the bus over to my place where we would diligently fill in the large chart of numbers from the scores, adding the running totals for each punter and then head round to the Hattonrigg Hotel for a pint. On a Monday evening Bunny would pin the updated chart back on the wall of Yogi’s above our team photo so our “clients” could check for possible winnings.
Yogi’s was also a venue for other socialising activities. Several of the boys were musically talented and would bring instruments along to accompany our singing which mainly came from the Dubliners, or the Clancy Brothers Songbooks. I recall one Christmas Day when a group of us gathered in the big room in the evening for a night of music and song, although none of it would have been related to that festive season. And a great Hogmany session when Jimmy O’Neill provided his guitar and singing to assist our merriment. This was a few years before he became “Jimme” of “The Silencers” but he can say that one of his first gigs was in the great Yogi’s Bar!
Politics also were a source of discussion. For a while there was a workshop on Dialetical Socialism in one of the rooms on a Wednesday evening. This was put on by a guy who came up from London looking for candidates to help him start a class revolution! His theories did seem a bit too complicated for us though. The main political discussion centred around the events going on in the North of Ireland especially after internment was introduced. John Fagan was instrumental in setting up meetings with the “Irish Solidarity Campaign” and we had several discussion sessions in the bottom room. A bus was also run from the pub to an ISC Meeting in Shettleston. There was a large contingent from the “loyalist” side waiting outside the hall and I was quite glad of the police presence.
Eventually though Yogi’s had to move with the times. The building was coming down due to redevelopment. By this time girlfriends, job commitments were changing our social activities too. A new Yogi’s Bar was established in Greenend but it was not quite the same. It was much bigger and plusher (that was not hard to do!). In the public bar some of the jerseys Yogi had acquired from teams he had played against adorned the walls. With Greenend being much further away from the centre of the town it was more difficult for most of the St Pats boys to get to.
I was there just after it opened and when I first walked into the bar I discovered to my horror that the only lager on tap was Tennents! Fortunately, Mary and Margaret noticed my distress and explained that Harp was available in the lounge bar. They agreed to go through to the other side to get me my preferred pint and although it meant paying a few more pence in lounge prices it was worth it!
By now my visits to Yogi’s were on the occasional Saturday night after I had got back from the game in the afternoon. The only people I knew from the old pub who were regulars now were Bunny and Ian Graham. We went to the lounge a few times. One was a St Patrick’s Day and there was a small band playing that night. They did a few numbers with an Irish flavour but the event was not particularly Irish to our way of thinking.
As was often the case an invite was put out to anyone in the bar who wanted to come up and do a number. A warning was given that no “party” songs would be tolerated. One of Bunny’s mates, Eddie, was a good singer and I had heard his rendition of Dark Lochnagar before. On this occasion he decided to treat us to “The Wild Colonial Boy” He only got a few lines out before the MC stopped him, reminded about the type of songs that were prohibited and asked him to sing something more acceptable.
My first thought was that millions of Australians would be amazed that a song about one of their famous folk-heroes could apparently cause offence in a country thousands of miles away, my second thought was how ignorant many people in Scotland seemed to be about what constituted sectarianism and finally I thought how different it was from the old place.
Overall those were very happy days. Yogi’s passing is very sad for all of us but there is some consolation in the great memories that have been brought to mind.
RIP Yogi.
Mike Maher