IN HIS abilities and demeanour John McPhail could have played for no other club than Glasgow Celtic. Born in the city and schooled in the great footballing nursery of St Mungo's Academy, he was to the club who signed him at the age of 17 as a novitiate is to the acceptance of holy orders. He wore the green and white hoops with as much love as distinction in a playing career which lasted from October 1941 until 1956 when, plagued by injuries and severe problems in keeping his waistline to manageable proportions, he discarded his boots and took to the typewriter as a colourful and sympathetic reporter of Scottish football.

In his earlier days as a player, McPhail, or "Hooky", as he was popularly called by the fans, for his tendency to stab at the ball with the outside of his boot, suffered the disadvantage of being with a club dominated by the great rivals Rangers and he found himself having to shoulder this with great resilience, which he manifested on the field with a tall commanding broad-chested action which could easily have him likened to a John Charles or a Duncan Edwards.

But in a paradoxical way his versatility eventually diluted his identity. In the mind's eye, there were several McPhails. There was the robust spearhead, using shoulders and broad thighs to cut swathes through defences in great individual sorties. There was the central defender cast in iron, solid and dependable. There was the industrious yet skilful midfielder.

In the former role I witnessed him score one of the great Scottish Cup Final goals, on 21 April 1951 against Motherwell, when his mix of intimidating physical presence and gentle touch confused the defenders and his first touch control with chest and eventual delicate lob to the net presented Celtic its first triumph in 14 years. Of such individual feats are legends made.

As a left-sided midfielder, McPhail converted to a more subtle role in 1953 when he helped Celtic brush aside Manchester United in the Coronation Cup Semi-Final and then to beat Hibs in the memorable final. His emergence as a figure of Celtic indomitability helped stabilise the club during a sterile era, so his abilities merited more rewards than are attributed to him in the record books. But his talents spilled over on to the international field, where he made the first of five appearances for his country, against Wales, on 9 November 1949 and scored a goal which few observed in a fog- bound Hampden Park.

While he played with fiery conviction during his career, he retained a geniality which might at first have seemed at odds with his determined attitude on the field, except that his record of playing hard but fair was renowned. When he led Celtic as captain to Rome to play Lazio in May 1950, to the astonishment of those who knew him he was sent off after an altercation with the defender Remondini although "Hooky" insisted that it was the Italian who was sent off and that the referee had only asked him to leave "to placate the crowd".

That dignified demeanour was beset though by recurring injury problems towards the end of a career which saw him play 204 games and score 87 goals for his only club. Worse than that, he was getting fat. He once told me that as he was being criticised for his incipient slowness on the field he took to the ageing remedy of the Hungarian international Ferenc Puskas, shortening the stride and increasing the number of steps he took to lend the false impression of pace.

It was his droll way of admitting the inevitable and although the club had once sent him to a health farm at Tring, Hertfordshire, in 1954, he was being dropped simply because he was not fit enough. His previous status made it difficult for him to live with that and on 5 May 1956 he retired.

As a journalist afterwards with the Daily Record he gave more to the public than merely a name tagged to sub-edited copy but followed the game with an astute but kindly eye. To listen to him enthrall listeners with gentle tales of an age when football was truly the working man's only real leisure pursuit was like listening to the chronicle of a golden age. Names like Fernie, Tully, Stein, Collins on his own side; Waddell, Thornton, Young for Rangers.

He talked as if the Old Firm were knights of the Round Table. Of course they were not that, but from his lips even they could be made so.

John McPhail, football player and journalist: born Glasgow 27 December 1923; married (two daughters); died Glasgow 6 November 2000.


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