CELEBRATING TOMMY GEMMELL: DAY TWO: PALS IN PARADISE

It was owned by Partick Thistle chairman and SFA President Tom Reid and a lot of footballers used to hang out there. They had an upstairs bar where you could get a bit of privacy.

Normally we would be joined by the Rangers contingent of Wee Willie, Ronnie McKinnon, Davie Provan and Willie Johnston. It was all very affable, I must say.

Jock Stein abhorred alcohol, as we all know, so it may surprise a few that the Celtic players were allowed a drop of whisky before every game.

Okay, it wasn’t enough to cater for a party. In fact, it was only a quarter bottle of whisky and it was kept out of sight in the shower room.

TWO OF A KIND…Bertie Auld and Tommy Gemmell on their way back from training at Barrowfield.

Big Jock never allowed anyone else into the dressing room apart from the players and staff, but on the off-chance someone did enter his exclusive sanctum, there would never be any booze on display. However, if the players fancied a nip before kick-off they could go and have a quick snifter with the boss’ blessing.

I’m not a whisky drinker, but I had a swig one day to test out its therapeutic qualities. That was a one-off. I never touched it again. A lot of the other players didn’t bother, either, but that bottle was almost always empty before we left to take the field.

I’m not pointing any accusing fingers, you understand, but Ronnie Simpson seemed to make more visits to the shower room than anyone else. Read into that what you will.

Ronnie was a great character. Do you know the only two members of the Lisbon Lions squad who smoked were the goalkeepers, Ronnie and John Fallon? And, before them, the only other bloke I saw smoking at Celtic Park was Frank Haffey, another goalkeeper.

Bertie Auld would often be photographed with a giant cigar after a trophy triumph, but I doubt if he ever smoked it. That cigar probably followed him throughout his career and was never lit!

HAMPDEN HEROES…Tommy Gemmell, Ronnie Simpson and Stevie Chalmers after the 2-0 Scottish Cup Final win over Aberdeen at Hampden in April 1967 – one of the silverware sweep in a memorable season.

Jim Craig flummoxed Big Jock. Our manager could never understand why our right-back had a profession outside football. Jim, of course, was a dentist and combined both trades fairly well.

How many dentists do you know who have a European Cup winner’s medal in their possession?

The man known to us as Cairney must be unique. Cairney? Back then, there was a Scottish actor called John Cairney, who happened to be a Celtic fan, who starred in a TV series called This Man Craig, so we simply switched names.

To be honest, I don’t think Cairney ever received the praise he deserved. I’m probably to blame to a certain extent. The supporters would see me bombing up and down the left flank and, if I was lucky, walloping in a goal or two.

Scoring goals wasn’t Cairney’s forte, though. What he provided was remarkable athleticism on the right. He didn’t go on eye-catching mazy runs, but he certainly contributed to the cause.

Jim was the University-type. I’m sure he thought the rest of his team-mates were half-footballer half-imbecile. He probably believed an amoeba had more brain cells than the lot of us put together. I never tired of telling him he wasn’t the only one who possessed grey matter in the team.

I had won the Dux medal at Wishaw High School Senior Secondary, after all.

GOVAN GLEE…Tommy Gemmell celebrates a Celtic goal against Rangers at Ibrox along with team-mates Bobby Murdoch, Bobby Lennox and Bertie Auld.

Billy McNeill would give his team-mates dog’s abuse during a game if he thought it was merited. If you surrendered the ball needlessly with a slack pass you could expect to get it in the ear from Big Billy. In fact, every individual in the Celtic team would give a colleague pelters if it was deserved.

That was the type of team we were. We all wanted to be winners and no-one was shy about firing out a verbal volley if we thought somebody was falling short of the required standard.

It didn’t do us any harm, did it? We could spend an-hour-and-a-half shouting and bawling at each other, but it never carried on into the dressing room afterwards. Not once.

You hear all sort of stories about bust-ups among players in the privacy of their sanctuary away from prying eyes, but, no matter how heated it got during a game, that wasn’t the case with us. Sure, there could be a word or two, but that was all.

LEGENDS…Lisbon heroes Tommy Gemmell and Billy McNeill proudly parade the European Cup to the Celtic fans.

Big Billy was Jock’s general on the park, but he realised he was surrounded by players with the same positive outlook. Billy got it in the neck every now and again, too.

No-one was immune. We won as a team and we lost as a team. People can look at the surviving Lisbon Lions today and see us all getting on well with each other. They may think that is merely for the public’s consumption.

Believe me, that affection we have for each other is genuine and has lasted well over four decades. My wee pal Willie Wallace may now be living on the other side of the world in Queensland, Australia, but we still keep in touch.

That wee beggar will telephone me in the dead of winter to tell me he is enjoying a barbeque in his back garden.

Now that’s what I call a friend.

TOMORROW: DON’T MISS CELEBRATING TOMMY GEMMELL: DAY THREE