John was unsung hero who played by his own rules
‘Boots off!’. The sign at Clyde physio John Watson’s door left nobody in any doubt over just one of the many pernickety items on his dos and don’ts list.
Anyone who attempted to defy the rules was shunted to the back of the queue and wouldn’t be treated until toeing the line and barefoot.
A stickler for hygiene, you had to shower or bathe before his healing hands would get anywhere near you.
There was a quiet dignity about him, the type of decency that offered some sanctuary from the barbarity of the Bully Wee dressing room.
Medical expertise and wise counsel were one thing, he also refused to be dragged into the tittle-tattle and sweetie-wife stuff that abounds within football.
Just what John would think of all the SPFL squabbles and undignified political browbeating is now purely academic.
A bad-news week became much more sorrowful after a text arrived to inform me that the man who served Clyde as club physiotherapist for almost 30 years had passed away.
John had been a household name in every club backroom in the country for decades and deserves more than a few lines of remembrance at the bottom of this column.
Ask any player and they will confirm the physio room is also a confessional.
Not quite a lawyer-client relationship but he could tell if you’d been out in the lash or if any of your ailments were selfinflicted and never threatened to shop you.
John was a body-and-soul type of guy, getting you back playing as soon as possible was his job – but he knew just as much about the fragile mental psyche of a footballer’s mind as he did about pulled hamstrings and groin strains
JW was like so many physios in the game, a huge presence and massive part of the group dynamic that can prove the difference between failure and success.
As always with his type, it all started and ended with a sense of humour.
Craig Brown tells a story about the lengths John would go to in an effort to keep a careful eye on the finances in his role as the go-to guy for a variety of kitroom bits and bobs.
Ask him for a bootlace and his standard reply was: ‘Left boot or right?’.
Celtic legend Billy McNeill went on record back in the day in rating John as the best ‘bucket and sponge man’ in the country. Former Partick Thistle and current Stirling Albion physio Kenny Crichton is cut from the same cloth, as is John’s successor for a time at Clyde,
Iain McKinlay.
Paul Green’s another – he was the healing hands at East Stirling but wasn’t nicknamed ‘The Vet’ for nothing.
We’ll say no more about the third-degree burns inflicted by a dodgy ultrasound machine as he’s now the strength and conditioning coach at Hibs.
There’s David Jenkins, a brilliant guy who’s made it a pleasure to walk into the treatment room.
It’s been over two years since legendary Ayr physio John Kerr passed away and it’s a measure of the respect he commanded in the game that the crematorium was standing room only.
So many unsung heroes who play such a vital part behind the scenes.
John will be missed by everyone who knew him.
My thoughts are with his wife, Agnes, and family and everyone at Clyde.
Any player will confirm the physio room is a confessional – John could tell if you’d been on lash but never shop you