Matt Busby was like a kid in a sweet shop when we won Cup
I kidded on that I strengthened Celtic when I left but I wouldn’t have played ahead of Bobby Murdoch
THE reaching of three European Cup finals in four years is an extraordinary achievement for anyone. It was, however, a mere walk in the San Siro, a casual wander down Wembley Way, a day in the sun in Lisbon for Sarah Crerand, a daughter of Donegal and resident of Crown Street in the Gorbals.
‘Big Jock was always good to her. He was a mentor to all of us when I was at Celtic as a kid and he looked after her. She was a fanatical Celtic fan and Jock took care of her for tickets when I left. That led to three European Cup finals in four years. That’s not bad, is it?’ says Paddy Crerand, son of Sarah, whose involvement in European competition was more direct.
His mother watched Celtic defeat Inter Milan 2-1 in the Estadio Nacional in 1967 and lose 2-1 to Feyenoord in San Siro in 1970 as a guest of Big Jock. The tickets for Manchester United’s 4-1 defeat of Benfica in the Wembley final of 1968 came from closer to home.
Paddy Crerand was one of the 11 United heroes that night in a team that contained George Best and Bobby Charlton, but not an injured Denis Law.
Fifty years on, Crerand surveys those glory days with the cool certainty that marked his imperious passing. Forced to leave Celtic 19 1963 after a row with the board, Crerand is a character who accepted and exhibited emotionalism on the pitch and beyond, particularly in his altercations with opponents. But he is clear-eyed when appraising himself and his peers.
‘I didn’t want to leave. I was pushed out, but these things happen in life. I couldn’t have gone anywhere better,’ says Crerand of his departure from Celtic.
It is a measure of the times that Crerand would have happily stayed at Celtic, shunning all overtures from down south. But when push became a mighty shove, United could be his only choice.
‘All Glasgow boys at that time had an English team and mine was Manchester United,’ he says. ‘They had great names, great players and a great history. And they had Matt Busby, too.
‘Matt could charm the birds out of the trees, but he did not have to convince me. I had a good idea about the stature of the club and the quality of my team-mates.’
So how did he feel when Stein came back to the club he loved in 1965 and took them to the European Cup victory just two years later?
‘I was delighted for them,’ says Crerand. ‘I kidded everyone on that, when I left, I strengthened the Celtic team.’
There is a serious aspect to this banter. Crerand would have been in direct opposition to Bobby Murdoch for what was called the right-half berth, but would have more accurately been described as one of the central midfield pairing in Stein’s fluid 4-2-4.
‘I don’t think I would have played in Lisbon over Bobby. Bertie (Auld) was a slightly different sort of player but Bobby and me would not have played together,’ says Crerand. ‘It was Bertie and somebody else and it had to be Bobby. He was the best player Celtic had.’
Crerand reveals he played a role in the progression of Murdoch from an inconsistent forward to a schemer who dominated a European Cup final and who was lauded as the best midfielder on the continent.
‘He was playing at inside forward when I was there,’ says Crerand of Murdoch. ‘But when Jock got the manager’s job, I phoned him and said Bobby had to play central midfield. He was not quick enough to play up front. I said: “Play him where he can see everything in front of him”.
‘He was a marvellous passer with a great brain. He was a great player. I don’t think he gets the appreciation that he deserves. I wouldn’t have got into that Lisbon team. Seriously, not with Bobby there.’
His experience of Lisbon 1967 was a long-distance one; Crerand was on tour of the USA, New Zealand and Australia with United.
‘We flew from Hawaii to New Zealand and, in those days, it seemed to take about three days,’ he says. ‘When we arrived at the hotel in Auckland, I knew the game had been played but didn’t know the result. I asked the receptionist and she told me she didn’t know much about football so did not know the name of the team, but she had heard it was the first time a British club had won it. That was enough for me.’
A year later, Crerand was part of a story that was heavily laced with tragedy. The Munich disaster of 1958 lay heavily over Manchester United, placing an enduring, debilitating burden on survivors
such as Busby and Charlton.
Crerand, of course, knew of the details of the crash that killed 23 crew and passengers, including eight players. He was to work with survivors, live with the legacy.
That night at Wembley on May 29, 1968, marked a significant signpost on the road from Munich. No one could argue it dissipated grief or loss. But it fulfilled what seemed like a promise lost on a wreckagestrewn runway in Munich.
The match was tight over 90 minutes, with a 1-1 tie forcing it into extra-time. But United — packed with thoroughbreds such as Crerand, Best, Charlton, Brian Kidd and John Aston — galloped away from Benfica in extra-time.
‘We knew we were going to beat Benfica,’ says Crerand bluntly. ‘We played them a couple of years earlier and beat them 5-1 in Lisbon and 3-2 at Old Trafford.’
The second leg at the Estadio da Luz had its concerns for the United manager.
‘Matt told us to keep it tight for 15 minutes, but George wasn’t listening. We were 3-0 up after 15 minutes and he was absolutely brilliant,’ says Crerand, neglecting to mention his own goal in the game.
‘George came back to huge headlines. The Fifth Beatle and all that. It may be hard to believe now, but footballers were very rarely on the front pages. But George changed all that.
‘His performance in Lisbon was probably the worst thing that could have happened to him. It took him from football fame to just incredible celebrity.’
Best scored a wonderful goal in the 1968 final. But the hero was Charlton, netting twice and providing a physical, playing link to the Busby Babes.
‘It was difficult for Bobby,’ says Crerand. ‘He must have been playing in the final thinking about what happened in the past. He is the shyest fella, you know? You have to drag words out of his mouth. Maybe Munich had something to do with that quietness. He had grown up with all those players who died, been with most of them since he was 15.’
Duncan Edwards, Charlton’s great friend, and the most prodigious lost talent in the English game, died from his injuries two weeks after the crash.
‘He was a fantastic player,’ says Crerand, who recalls his first view of the genius in an Under-23 match between Scotland and England at Shawfield in February 1955.
‘The English centre-forward got injured and was taken off. They pushed Edwards up front and he scored four in a 6-1 win. He was incredible. He was 19 and was a man in physique and the complete player. They still talk about him now at United.’
Crerand, of course, is privy to all that talk. He is still employed at United, doing commentary and analysis for MUTV. ‘If they go to Timbuktu, then I am there,’ he says.
When not on the road, he is in the gym. ‘I am there nearly every day,’ adds the 79-year-old.
But casting his mind back 50 years, what is his greatest memory of United’s first and most poignant European triumph?
‘I remember Matt at the banquet singing the Louis Armstrong song
It’s A Wonderful World. But the image that stays with me is seeing Matt’s face at full-time. It was like looking at a kid who had been locked in a sweetie shop.’
And what about Sarah Crerand? ‘Aye, she was chuffed, too. Mind you, she was getting used to her teams winning the European Cup.’