THE GENTLE GIANT WHO ALWAYS SPOKE HIS MIND
IT COULD so easily have been the moment that ruined a burgeoning friendship. Tommy Gemmell was furious with me for having dared question his team selection and tactics in print following a particularly heavy defeat — and he let me have both barrels.
For my part, I took the tirade on the chin and then slinked away, tail between my legs to lick my wounded pride.
But sport is riven by opinions and I reckoned mine was every bit as valid as that of the Dundee manager.
Perhaps if I had left it at that, what had been a close relationship would simply have become a business one.
But I refused to sulk and when I bit back 24 hours later, telling him in no uncertain terms that he had been bang out of order, his reaction said everything you needed to know about the man.
‘I wondered how long it would take you,’ he said with a grin. ‘Listen, nobody enjoys criticism and I reacted the same as you would have done in my situation, so let’s just forget what happened and move on.’
So we did and nothing changed. Nearly 40 years later, my feelings for Big Tam are the same as they were prior to our brief bust-up. It is the same for the Celtic
supporters. Tommy will forever remain a Hoops legend idolised by legions of fans.
His name is enshrined in the club’s history as the scorer of the equalising goal in a 2-1 victory over Inter Milan that resulted in the club being crowned European champions.
So his passing following a lengthy illness is especially poignant, coming just two months before the 50th anniversary celebrations to mark Celtic’s achievement in winning the European Cup.
Tommy is the fourth Lisbon Lion to succumb to ill-health, while the revelation that their captain, Billy McNeill, is suffering from dementia is a further cruel twist.
While I was not altogether surprised that Tommy had lost his battle at the age of 73, given how frail he looked the last time our paths crossed, it was a shock all the same.
In my mind’s eye he will always be a giant among full-backs. I will also remember him as a free spirit with a powerful personality and an ability to put you at ease and also make people laugh.
His remarkable facial resemblance to Hollywood legend Danny Kaye inevitably earned him the moniker and it was wholly appropriate, for Tommy was an entertainer in his own right.
He was also the joker in the pack, recalling, for example, how an Inter defender half turned his back on him as he was about to shoot.
‘If he’d taken another step it would have been very difficult for me to get the ball past him,’ he said. ‘But they do say the book of Italian heroes is very thin and he wasn’t interested in expanding it!’
Although naturally right-footed, Motherwell-born Tommy made his name as a left-back and, in addition to his defensive skills, he had powerful shooting ability.
It was a measure of his prowess as a marksman — he netted 63 times in 418 appearances for Celtic — that he scored in two European Cup finals, having also netted in the 2-1 defeat by Feyenoord in 1970.
When I met Tommy for the first time, I was a star-struck novice sportswriter still on the first rung of the ladder.
I confess that he had annoyed the hell out of me, given his infuriating habit of playing well against my team, Dundee. One match that comes instantly to mind is the 1967 League Cup final when ‘we’ were beaten 5-3 by a Celtic team comprising ten of the Lisbon Lions. But all had been forgiven long before our first meeting. Tommy had previously been kind enough to accommodate the needs of a struggling young freelance. Never once did this muchdecorated Scotland player object to my regular phone calls requesting his thoughts on a myriad of football issues on behalf of a weekly publication. Neither did he ever ask for anything in return.
So by the time he pitched up at Dens Park in July 1973 — via Nottingham Forest and Miami Toros — two years after leaving Celtic, I felt almost as if I knew him personally.
The following December, the man I had once cursed became a Dark Blue hero, leading Dundee to a stunning League Cup final win against his former club.
And by the time he hung up his boots four years later and ventured into management, I like to think we had grown reasonably close.
Tommy had not always endeared himself to Jock Stein and certain Celtic team-mates due to his habit of speaking his mind. But he always stood his ground and never worried about the possible ramifications of being outspoken.
He had a compassionate side as well and that was demonstrated when he handed his fellow Lion Jimmy Johnstone one final chance to resurrect his career with Dundee. The gamble backfired spectacularly when Jinky turned his brief sojourn into one long party while staying at the hotel owned by his former team-mate in the Perthshire hamlet of Errol.
But Tommy was not in the business of bearing grudges and Jinky was forgiven his trespasses.
Tommy, who also had two spells as manager of Albion Rovers, worked in the insurance and investment industry after football and regularly held court at the Admiral Bar in the heart of Glasgow.
It was there that I met with him regularly and, unlike the wine we drank, the conversation when directed through Tommy was of the finest vintage.
So, cheers Big Tam, you lived life the same way you played football — not so much with a smile on your face, rather more a huge grin.
I took the tirade on my chin and slinked away to lick my wounded pride
He will always be a giant among full-backs and a free spirit who made people laugh