This year some of your money went to Whizz-Kidz, who help some of the estimated 70,000 children in the UK waiting for the right wheelchair. They not only provide equipment and life skills, but also offer support to young people. Take a look at this video to find out the kind of way your cash has changed a life:
We’ve just sent off money to Action on Depression, a Scottish charity working with some of the 10% of the population who suffer from this illness at some point in their lives. Like all of the recipients of your money this year, there is a feeling that we provided no more than a drop in the ocean of what is required, but with depression we felt that bringing the subject out into the open was as important as the money donated.
This illness can do enormous damage lurking in the shadows, let’s kick it into the light.
Many of you will remember the Martin Chamber Ecuador Trust. Fr Martin left Scotland some years ago to help some of the most deprived people on earth. In his words, this is why we helped:
“I would say that people should care about the poor people of Ecuador firstly because they are our brothers and sisters. On top of that their needs are great: they have no running water, no proper sanitation, no sewerage system and poor electricity. They have little access to education or to medical care and they are crammed together in bamboo huts – mile upon mile of houses, millions of people living below the poverty line. That’s why people should care.”
You gave to the Ronnie Coyle Benefit Trust, sadly, Ronnie is no longer with us, you donated to the Aberdour PTA, from the Fife village that hosts our summer get-together, and you gave a donation to The Haven, who help people with life limiting illness from Glasgow and Lanarkshire. Their story is available in a short video here, take a look at what your money is doing.
All in I’d say you did very well. Very well indeed. Have a great Christmas, you deserve it.
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The Celtic players would do well to remember the huns beat them lastime.
A work of complete and utter faction– by Brogan Rogan Trevino and Hogan.
All references to people living or dead are either factually accurate or a complete work of my imagination
My apologies if this tales is too long for some. If you like it then tell others– if you don’t then exercise some Christian charity and hold your tongue! ;-o)
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The hotel was no different to many of the international hotels that the man had been in over a number of years. It was modern,luxurious, had all the necessary facilities and was close enough to the airport as to be convenient. He hoped that he would not have to be there for too long and that his business could be conducted quickly. The arrangements had been made in the main, soundings made,fees agreed. The only thing that he had left to do as to convince his prey that the proposal he was making would be mutually beneficial— and he had wrestled with himself as to just how to achieve his goal. After all he had known the man he was about to meet for years, knew him really well– and yet he was not sure if that made the conversation to come easier or considerably more difficult?
Time would tell– Nothing ventured nothing gained– and besides the younger man was a friend was he not?
He sat in the lobby waiting. He had insisted in coming alone– this was to be a personal meeting, so he did not want the executive types present with contracts and details– that could be sorted out later. This was just a chat between two men– old friends– but with a business proposal thrown in. That was all.
Yet it wasn’t all at all was it? The older man knew fine well that he may have to dig deep into his own past to make the deal work. He may just have to reveal a part of himself that he had kept hidden for years in order to gain the trust of the younger man. He may even lose a friend on this day, with the younger man concluding that his old friend had finally grown too old for the real world and had lost his marbles entirely!
He was thinking about that very thing when he saw the young man come through the door. Small, diminutive and with an impish grin which immediately lit up his face on seeing the old man, Lubomir Moravcik still looked like a schoolboy in his eyes! Yet he knew he was 33 years old, and now a veteran in the eyes of the footballing world!
” Josef!”
“Lubo!”
The two men hugged and embraced as only old old friends do.
After some brief pleasantries, they retired to a waiting room where they could be alone for their chat.
Moravcik, too had come alone. He had driven the short distance from Duisburg to Dusseldorf to meet Josef Venglos, and knew in advance that the old man would be alone and the reason for his visit.
Once in the seclusion of the room, the two men asked about one another’s families and talked of old times and acquaintances, before Moravcik brought up the business in hand.
” So– you are now in Glasgow– Scotland? And managing Celtic Glasgow?
” Yes Lubomir, that I am”
” And you want me to go there too– at 33?”
“Yes , I do– very much so”
” Boss,– ( He still called him boss despite the years )– I am 33 years old, not at my fittest and I cannot hold down a place with Duisburg. My time in the footballing light has come and gone I’m afraid, and as much as I would like to play forever I have to face up to the fact that mother nature is telling me it is time to move on in life. Maybe coaching back in Slovakia, maybe somewhere in France, but the playing days are coming to an end if I am not at the terminus already!”
The older man sighed, poured some water into a glass, and looked at his countryman.
” Lubo, I know how old you are. I know where you have played, how often you have played and who you have played with. I first saw you as a schoolboy and know fine well that here you are in Germany and that you are not the youngest in the squad that you currently play with. But, I also know that you can do a job for Celtic, even if you do not play the full 90 minutes of each game. This will be good for you Lubo– I promise you– and besides it will stand you in good stead for when you do finally hang up your boots. I have every confidence!”
” But Scotland,Boss? It is a very different standard to here in the Bundesliga. It is different to France and St Ettienne and whilst everyone in Europe knows the Celtic of old– with no disrespect they are no longer amongst the big teams of Europe. I tell you, if it is a physical league– requiring fitness and physicality– then I am not up to it– at least I feel I am not up to it. I know Duisburg have agreed a fee– they see me as surplus. But I can see out my time here, make contacts on mainland Europe and plan for the future. In Scotland? Well I know no one– and no one knows me. I may find myself in a wilderness and miss out on chances here– chances off the park and away from the game– I am not certain at all.”
The two talked back and forward. Venglos outlined how he found the club and the squad. He repeated that he was confident and that whilst Rangers were the dominant team in Scotland– he knew the day would come when they would be toppled from the top of the Scottish tree, and how he believed Moravcik could play a part in that process.
Despite all of this and despite their friendship, the younger man remained dubious and unconvinced.
Ultimately, Venglos knew he would have to make the last throw of the dice. It was taking a risk and would test a long held friendship with his young counterpart but he decided to go for it.
” Lubomir? Do you remember when you first came to Prague?”
” Eh? Yes– I think it was when I was maybe 15 or16.”
” I was younger– maybe ten years old.”
” Why do you ask?”
” Lubo, I am going to tell you something that you may find hard to believe– something hard to comprehend. Please hear me out as I thought long and hard about telling you this, and at the end I will ask you one question and no matter how you answer I will respect your decision no matter what!”
The younger man looked perplexed and out of respect for his older friend simply nodded his assent.
The old man continued
” As you know I was born in Ruzomberok in Slovakia. Until 1918 the town was In Hungary– all mountains, streams and cotton mills. I was never anywhere near Prague until I went with my school not long after the end of the second world war– 1946. I was ten years old and all I wanted to do was play football– football, football, football– that was all I cared about. That visit has stayed with me ever since– though I have often been too embarrassed to speak of it because people would think me a fool.
On that trip to Prague, the school team played in a mini tournament that was held in the Letenske Sady Park. We were not very good I’m afraid but we played a number of games all the same.
At the end of one game, we noticed that our match had been watched by a few spectators, one of whom was an old man in a wheel chair. He was very animated this man. He had a nurse with him who kept telling him to be quiet, but despite this, he continued to shout instructions at us boys. The instructions were in broken Czech and they were barked– he seemed angry to me, he spoke in a funny acccent– yet he also seemed knowledgeable about football and at the end we were taken over by our coach to meet him as apparently he was quite famous– or indeed had been famous at one time.
He was introduced as “Dedek” or Grandpa and he was 80 years old. We were told that he was the Grandpa of Czech Football. He had been the manager of Slavia Prague for 25 years and had won many championships, including what could be regarded as the forerunner of the European Cup. He coached in a different way to anything or anyone that had come before. He knew about tactics, and muscles and physiotherapy long before anyone else. He was a national hero! He had helped coach the most successful national teams, at the Olympics and in the lead up to the world cup. We hung on his every word.
However, the strangest thing about Dedek was revealed in a ten minute story he told me that day. For despite being a hero in Czechoslovakia, he as born in Scotland– in a town called Dumbarton. He was a riveter in a ship yard and played football part time for the local club and he gained some success getting to the Scottish cup final in 1887. Then he said everything changed– changed in a way that he could never imagine, that you would never believe.
In 1888, he was asked to turn out as a guest for a new team– for a club to be called Celtic in Glasgow. He was reluctant at first but eventually agreed. He told me that there had been several attempts to start a club called Celtic and that they had all failed.He honestly felt that this club would fail too, but this time there was something different. So– on the 28th of May 1888– Dedek became the very first player to kick a ball for Celtic Glasgow. He was their first centre forward, and as such he took their first kick off and so started the whole Celtic ball rolling– literally. They played against a team called Rangers Swifts and won 5-2.
After the game there was a celebration which Dedek went to.. and at that party he was asked to join Celtic permanently, but he said no.
He returned to play for Dumbarton,which was a good team then and about 25 miles from Glasgow– but could not get the Celtic thing out of his head. He was pursued by other clubs from England but kept bumping into a Celtic man called Glass and another called Maley who promised him that something special would happen to him at Celtic Park– a park that the supporters built themselves Lubo. The way he spoke, it was as if they said that Celtic Park had been fashioned out of magic– you know like by a wizard? Eventually he signed for Celtic in August 1889 and stayed until 1897. He was apparently like you, Lubo, an entertainer, good feet, ferocious shot and a crowd pleaser. His nickname there was the rooter– because his shots were so hard they uprooted the posts. He won leagues and medals with Celtic and never left.
After he retired from playing, he went back to working in the shipyards but kept up to date with football. He travelled, and in 1905 Celtic toured through Europe and by coincidence came to Prague– by design or accident– Dedek came too and somehow got the job of managing Slavia Prague on 15th February 1905– He was a huge success– and he never went back to Scotland.
But on that day in the Letenske he said that his whole life in football truly started that day he turned out for a team called Celtic. As a young boy I listened to this old man in the park and he told us that if you can play football at all then you can play at Celtic Park in Scotland. He said it was a place where, for some, their real destiny awaited and that strange and wonderful things happen there. So I always knew about Celtic park, always believed in the old man’s tale that it was a magical place. So when I got the chance to go there I didn’t hesitate– and I have seen it Lubo– seen it with my own eyes– I have seen and felt what the old man told me off– and it exists Lubo. It is there and it is real– and most of all it says to me ” Moravcik! Moravcik!”– you are the kind of player that can play there Lubo– you will shine and achieve things you have never before experienced– believe me.
The old man’s real name was Johnny Madden– go look him up– the very first guy to kick a ball for Celtic, Lubo, and he ends up a national hero in our back yard? A guy who was destined to fit rivets in a shipyard all his days– until he went to Celtic park– and I meet him in a public park one tram stop up from the Sparta station in 1946? And he looks into my eyes all those years ago and says if you get the chance one day go to Celtic park because strange things happen there? And so here I am– all these years later. the manager of the club where that old man kicked the first football which in turn lead him to be a legend in the country that both you and I played football for.
So here is my question Lubomir. I know you have doubts about your fitness and about Scotland. I know you have a future to think of and that you could have gone to Marseilles and Juventus and regretted not making those moves. So trust me Lubo– just this once more. Will you come with me to have a look at Celtic and their ground? Will you come and “feel” what it is like? See what the old man said was true all those years ago– and if you don’t get that feeling that you can play there, that you won’t fit in and that there is not something different about the place– well we will pay all the expenses of your visit and you can come back here– nothing lost at all!
“What do you say Lubomir– will you walk through the Parkhead gates with me for a look at the place where Dedek kicked the first ball?”– I swear you will just never know if you don’t!
Lubomir said yes…………………………………………..