DAVIE HAY’S Celtic managerial career came to a sad conclusion on this day 38 years ago.
The axe came as a complete shock to the Parkhead legend who never lost his affection for the Hoops and is now a club ambassador.
Hay, 77, told long-time friend and author Alex Gordon all about the heartbreaking experience in his autobiography, ‘The Quiet Assassin’, which was published in 2009.
In another CQN EXCLUSIVE, we turn the clock back with an extract from the best-selling publication.
I SPENT most of the morning at Celtic Park on a fateful day on May 20 in 1987 tidying up a few things, looking at contracts and informing the players that the club’s proposed summer tour of Australia had been cancelled.
I talked to chief scout John Kelman and we discussed a few players we might go for in the summer. I wanted to get us straight back into harness after relinquishing our league championship to Rangers.
That was sore and it would be fair to say that I was not happy with the Celtic board at the time when they refused to release transfer cash to strengthen the team while Rangers were buying the likes of England internationals Terry Butcher, Chris Woods and Graham Roberts.
On some occasions, it seemed as though I was in the boxing ring with both my hands tied behind my back and any chance of success was a complete impossibility.
IN PARADISE…Davie Hay beside the Celtic Park dug-out.
But I was still eager to get things in place for the new campaign. I had at last persuaded the board to loosen the purse strings and they allowed me to buy Republic of Ireland centre-half Mick McCarthy from Manchester City for a club record fee of £450,000.
I met Mick at a hotel in Carlisle and the entire deal was done and dusted inside half-an-hour. Off my own bat, I offered the player £1,000-per-week as his basic wage. I didn’t feel the need to run it by the directors because that was the going rate and Rangers were only too happy and willing to sign players on similar or enhanced terms.
I decided Celtic had to move with the times and we needed to shore up a defence that was conceding too easily and too often for my liking. Even Hamilton Accies, later to be relegated from the Premier Division, scored three against us. Mind you, we netted eight at the other end and our defensive deficiences were overlooked by many, but not by me.
A week after the win over Hamilton we lost another three in a defeat against Dundee United at Tannadice. Dundee also scored four against us in another loss on Tayside and I was aware the league was slipping away with Rangers going from strength to strength.
We lost 2-1 in the League Cup Final to Graeme Souness’s outfit and a goal from John Robertson, a shot that took a wicked deflection off Paul McStay, ended our interest in the Scottish Cup at Tynecastle. We went out of the European Cup in the second round to a strong and multi-talented Dinamo Kiev side, 4-2 on aggregate.
A WORD TO THE WISE…Davie Hay issues instructions to the Celtic players before extra-time in a League Cup-tie.
So, I saw my main task during that pre-season to regroup and regenerate fresh optimism within the club. I never got the opportunity. After returning home from my morning’s duties at Celtic Park, I received a call from Jack McGinn’s secretary asking me to return to the ground for a meeting with the chairman.
No-one had said a thing to me earlier in the day. I hadn’t an inkling of what was to come as I drove back to the east end of Glasgow.
I had been having contract talks with Mo Johnston, Brian McClair and Alan McInally who were coming to the end of their deals. Possibly, I thought something had happened on that front. I got to the park and Jack McGinn was there to meet me.
The chairman looked ashen-faced, but I still didn’t have a clue as to what was around the corner.
Jack looked at me and said, ‘We have decided that we must get rid of you as manager of the club. You can either resign or you can be sacked, but we would like you to resign. There will be compensation from the club.”
Thirty-eight little words that saw my world cave in on top of me.
My immediate emotion was that of disbelief. Why had nothing been said in the morning? Why hadn’t there even been a hint of such action?
Disbelief gave way to a feeling of being let down by a board I had gone out of my way to protect when the going got tough and the supporters were demanding answers about the lack of new signings and investment.
PENSIVE…Davie Hay, with Peter Grant in the background, contemplates a change in his game plan.
Eventually bitterness set in. I couldn’t help it. I looked at the chairman and he was obviously uncomfortable with what he had just said. I had been very publicly betrayed. I had lost the job I loved.
Celtic prided themselves in never having sacked a manager in their history and they didn’t want to do so with their centenary year in 1988 coming up fast. They wanted me to quietly walk away and let everyone think I had quit.
I stared back at the chairman and said, ‘No chance. If you want me out you will have to fire me.’ There was a long silence and I added, ‘Who’s got my job? Who are you going to replace me with?’
Jack was now looking distinctly ill at ease. He didn’t want to answer that one.
I wasn’t about to drop to my knees and plead for my job. They had made a decision and, only a year after winning the championship, I was no longer the Celtic manager. Could you blame me for feeling bitter?
I said at the time that it was like a death in the family. That, of course, was a gross exaggeration.
I was hurt, though; badly hurt and humiliated by a board I had continually warned to look at the bigger picture and see what Rangers were doing across the city. Our age-old rivals were investing heavily in their playing resources and were bringing in quality from England.
No-one could ever accuse me of lacking ambition and there was no-one at Celtic Park more single-minded than me when it came to keeping Celtic at the pinnacle.
However, when I needed the board to back me they back-stabbed me, instead.
