A series of articles on the late Tommy Burns by PaulT begins with a look at his playing career:
Tommy Burns: The Quadrilogy
Part 1- The Player
When I decided to write something for The Celtic Blog to mark the upcoming 5th anniversary of the passing of Tommy Burns, I felt it was impossible to tell my version of his story in a single piece. Therefore I’m going to try & relay this in a short series of four themed articles, starting with Part 1- The Player.
I grew up in central Scotland in the ‘70’s & ‘80’s, against a backdrop firstly of Labour incompetence, followed by Thatcher’s assault on Scottish heavy industry and the colossal impact it had on working class people. I came from a very happy one-parent family: my mother worked two jobs to provide us with a decent standard of living whilst, as was all too commonly the norm in those days, my father did his absolute damnedest to avoid other than his minimum obligations to help us. My early football leanings had been entirely influenced by the key people in my life: my extended family had a long tradition of being Hibs supporters and, duly, I’d been taken to Easter Road by my uncle at an early age to see the fantastic Turnbull’s Tornadoes of the early ‘70’s, probably the best Scottish team never to win a League title due to the ongoing dominance of Mr. Stein’s Celtic. However, it was never really my team- I had the sense that everyone wanted me to enjoy it, and to be honest as an occasion I always did, but I never felt like it was MY team.
In 1977 that all changed. I remember sitting down to watch the Scottish Cup Final with my friend Kevin & our two mothers: I’d no great affinity to either side but, as I knew Kev was a huge Celtic fan, I’d half-heartedly agreed to support them that day too. Then I saw the tracksuit tops. Brilliant white, huge green collars, worn with numbered shorts & white socks, lining up to meet the dignitaries. That was it. Something just clicked, and Celtic was MY team. The result was enjoyable obviously, but regardless of how that game might have finished, my life was forever changed that day.
My outstanding memory of the day isn’t the controversial penalty award, or the coolly-converted Andy Lynch finish, or indeed the fact that it was Kenny’s last game in the Hoops: no, the thing that always comes into my mind when I think back is the look of joy on the face of the flame-haired Celtic substitute that day, unused during the game but as delighted as anyone else involved in that famous Double-winning triumph. That was Tommy Burns in a nutshell.
From that point forward he was my guy. Every one of my friends had a favourite player at the club, but I stood alone in wanting to be Tommy. Despite being a fairly average & totally right-footed defender as a player, in my mind I was a left-footed genius, capable of doing virtually anything with the ball & of conjuring up the spectacular, along with being a flash-tempered, occasionally vicious, moaning-faced get on the park (the one facet of TB’s game I was able to fairly easily master). I was lucky- I saw a Celtic side that overcame and, alongside the stunning emergence of Aberdeen & Dundee United, killed off any serious challenge from Rangers for a decade. It was full of great players, of hard workers, of the occasional liability, but more often than not we challenged for the League & were there or thereabouts in one or other of the cups. Virtually throughout it all was Tommy, save occasional injury, suspension or managerial fall-outs!
I’ve a few treasured memories of Tommy as a player, including one of the most hilarious red cards I’ve ever seen, where Tommy managed to get sent off for dissent whilst walking off the park to be substituted by Anton Rogan at Love Street! However, if I’m honest, the thing I treasured most about him was that he was one of us- he looked devastated along with us when things were tough, and in the high points he was the most elated & joyful man amongst us, no matter the size of the crowd. It mattered to Tommy- he believed in the Club and, whilst at times like any other working man he fought for the best deal for him & his family, you got the feeling that he’d be there for ever. In a team full of leaders, everyone on & off the park looked to him for inspiration.
I met the man once during his playing days- at a supporter’s club function in Livingston toward the tail end of the Centenary Season. It probably was just another handshake at just another dinner/dance for him, but to a young(ish) guy who’d worn a slipper on his right foot to play football at PE, in a vain attempt to strengthen his left foot to Burns-esque proportions, it meant everything. Star struck doesn’t even come close: other than my ongoing Clare Grogan obsession, Tommy was my idol. My stupid questions were treated with patience & good grace, he made a few wisecracks which the mists of time and copious alcohol intake on the night have ensured I’ve completely forgotten, and then he moved on to speak to the next guy. I still remember how I felt in that exact moment. I still smile when I think of it.
In a lot of ways I can pin the decline of Celtic from 1989 to the mid-‘90’s McCann era on the departure of Tommy (and also, to be fair, Roy Aitken), which, to a large extent, ripped the heart out of an already-flagging team. Tommy’s last game was a bizarre friendly against Ajax in December 1989 which finished 1-0 to us (or 0-0 if, like my good friend Martin Lynch, you got into the Main Stand late, didn’t realise we’d scored in the first minute & spent the whole journey home moaning about going to a shite game on a freezing cold night to watch a goalless draw, without anyone feeling the need to correct him). Tommy was on the brink of joining Kilmarnock and, at a prearranged point after an hour’s largely uneventful play, the ref stopped the game to let Tommy say his goodbyes to the Jungle as he came to us & threw his boots in. Football is only a game, its almost ridiculous to admit to crying over it, but I wept that night like I’d lost a friend. The sheer emotion surging from the crowd onto the pitch at that point has lived with me ever since.
There have been better players at Celtic Park over the years undoubtedly, but few have been or ever will be as committed to the Club as Tommy was. More importantly on a personal level, none of them will ever be what Tommy Burns was to me.
This series of articles on TB will continue with Part 2- The Manager.
You can find the author on Twitter: @pault1888