THE MAD MONK OF MARYHILL
When DENIS McQUADE gave up becoming a priest for football, the church’s loss was Thistle’s gain as he helped steer the Jags to the greatest day in their history
THE Mad Monk was, of course, routinely, even religiously, rational. Denis McQuade’s nickname was a product of the juvenile levity of a dressing room. It owed everything to McQuade’s past as a seminarian and nothing to his character or personality.
McQuade, the meandering and mercurial winger, who was one of the scoring heroes in Partick Thistle’s extraordinary 4-1 victory over Celtic in the League Cup final of 50 years ago, is a man of direct purpose.
This applies to his golf game. At 70 years of age, he shot a 69 this summer. It applied most conspicuously to his attitude to his career, football and business.
McQuade walked away from professional football before the ’70s were out, indeed before he had reached 30 years of age.
‘I was only a full-time footballer for a year and it was boring once the golf season ended,’ he says. ‘I feel sorry for those lads with their Maseratis and Ferraris. They are living a superficial existence. I am not criticising them, I am just saying that I don’t want their lives.
‘Obviously, there are people like Virgil Van Dijyk, Andy Robertson and Marcus Rashford who have deeper lives with some substance. But young footballers are, generally speaking, totally devoted to playing football and so don’t look to develop other interests.
‘The most fulfilled ones have other interests outside the game. They have a purpose, they do something productive. That is so commendable and is beneficial to them, too.’
McQuade was never afraid to take the road less travelled. His runs on the park could confound opponents while irritating his manager. His skill contributed heavily to that wonderful, enterprising 1971 side under Dave McParland. It also earned him the odd verbal volley from Bertie Auld, a subsequent manager at Thistle.
He was always true, though, to his skill and his beliefs. ‘I felt I was just drifting into the priesthood,’ he says of his decision to leave seminary, aged 18. A fellow schoolmate stayed on. ‘I was very friendly with Philip Tartaglia,’ he adds of the pal who went on to become archbishop of Glasgow.
‘We lived about 200 yards from each other in Dennistoun and went to Blairs (St Mary’s College) together. I was decano (head boy) and he was vice-decano.’
Archbishop Tartaglia died earlier this year. ‘He did great things,’ says McQuade, who went to Glasgow University when he left seminary and enrolled at St Roch’s as a junior player.
He made progress in both disciplines, graduating with an MA in the unusual combination of mathematics and French and heading to Thistle where he enjoyed genuine glory days.
He subsequently played for Hearts and Hamilton Accies. Tommy Docherty called him into Scotland squads, he played and scored in a Scottish League side against England and he regularly bamboozled the best.
Yet, at 29, he made the decision to leave football with the same unwavering certainty that he made the call to abandon notions of the priesthood.
‘I came to the conclusion that if I hadn’t been picked up in 1971-72 when I was in the Scotland squad, then I was never going to make it to the very top,’ he explains. ‘So I had to start to work on a career. I knew my football career would go down, so I wanted my business career to rise. I wanted to have an established career in business and that is what happened.’
McQuade went into computers and took up a post in Bermuda, subsequently starting a business in Sydney.
When he eventually returned to Scotland, he commuted regularly to London.
His religious activity is now restricted to trying to be ‘a decent person’. ‘I have been to all the Masses I want to be at,’ he says.
‘I believe it is more important to be a good person. That doesn’t mean to say that I don’t have Christian values.’
He does admit to having an epiphany five years ago. ‘You can always chase money,’ he says. ‘But the moment comes when you decide you have enough. This is when a load comes off your head. ‘You think: “I don’t need any more golf clubs, I don’t need any more clothes. I have a house, a nice family. I have enough”.’
The numbers now dominating his life are those achieved on the golf course at Glenbervie.
He is the Scottish super senior matchplay champion and achieved that wonderful feat of shooting lower than his age — a 69 with his usual playing partners, including Ally McLeod, the former Hibs forward — in June.
That 69 was a joy. But it is 71 that defines him to the Thistle community.
THE scale of the League Cup triumph has been misrepresented over half a century.
It has been described as a freak result, a fluke. It was not. Thistle faced a Celtic side that later in the season would lose a semi-final of the European Cup on penalties to Inter Milan. Yes, Celtic missed Billy McNeill and Jimmy Johnstone incurred an injury in the Hampden final.
But Davie Hay, George Connelly, Kenny Dalglish and Lou Macari were all in a side who had contested the European Cup final the year before.
Thistle, though, were worthy, overwhelming victors. Four firsthalf goals from Alex Rae, Bobby Lawrie, McQuade and Jimmy Bone were only answered by a Dalglish strike after the half-time break.
‘The whole experience was surreal,’ admits McQuade.
‘I scored but should have had a couple in the second. I went around Evan Williams in the Celtic goal and couldn’t get my feet right, they got all tangled up, which some managers would say was not an unusual occurrence.
‘We went at Celtic. That is why we won. It was all down to the genius of Dave McParland.
‘He told us: “Go out, enjoy it. You can’t lose because nobody is expecting you to win”.
‘The key to it all was my fellow winger, Bobby Lawrie. He cut Celtic to shreds with his pace. We also had a solid defence.’
McQuade, too, was given a defensive role: ‘I was told that when we lost the ball I should be in touching distance of Bobby Murdoch as he was the man who instigated their attacks.
‘If you look at videos of the game, that is exactly what I did. That was a tactical master stroke from our manager.’
The reward was a place in Partick Thistle history. ‘It is never far away from everyday life,’ he says. ‘There is always someone contacting you.
‘I just can’t believe it was 50
I feel sorry for these guys with their Maseratis and Ferraris... they are living a superficial existence
years ago. It is surprising to me the club hasn’t won something else but that can change quickly. I always say you are only two years away from playing in europe. We were relegated in 1970 and in europe in 1972.’
The triumph earned him a £300 bonus. “Taxable,’ he concedes. ‘I heard Celtic were on £500 for losing.’
Bigger paydays came in business and, curiously, when playing in Bermuda.
‘I signed for a hotels’ team and got a motorbike,’ he reveals. ‘The team was run by the general managers at the biggest hotels. Our functions were magnificent and tickets for them were to die for. There were meals cooked by French chefs, cordon bleu fare, a cruise around the harbour...all for $20. If we won a big game or a cup, the manager would say: “Denis, take Linda up to New york for the weekend and here is a couple of hundred dollars spending money”.’
McQuade then went to Australia and played in an Over-35 league until he was 52. In lockdown when visiting his son there, he compiled a spreadsheet of that extraordinary period of cup triumph and international recognition.
‘I was bored in quarantine and sort of started a “that was the year that was”,’ he reveals.
‘I worked out that I was involved in 67 games in that great season. This involved friendlies, tours etc. I went to Peru and yugoslavia with scotland. I played against the english League in Middlesbrough, up against Bobby Moore and Geoff Hurst, and scored direct from a corner.
‘That summer I was all over the place. I went to the Far east with Thistle and then straight to Largs to report for scotland and then to
Italy on holiday and then to sweden for pre-season with Thistle.
‘It’s only when you look back that you see how remarkable it all was. I took it for granted then.’ Has he any regrets? ‘Absolutely not,’ he says. ‘I had a wonderful time. That was a great day at Hampden and people are kind enough to remind me of it regularly.
‘But I made the right decision to leave professional football when I did. I went on to have an interesting life, travelled the world. I look back and believe it was a mature decision.’
It was one, too, that spoke to the good sense of Jags’ worldly monk.