CELTIC'S MIGHT ATOM
Jack Harkness | 30/06/1963

"Peerless Patsy." "The Mighty Atom." "The Human Skelf." These were only three of the many titles earned by Patsy Gallacher. Patsy played for Celtic from 1911 till 1925. He was the finest dribbler of a football I have ever seen.

And he looked less like a footballer than anyone I have ever known.

He weighed about 8 1/2 stones. His height was a meere 5ft. 6in. And, as he walked like a half-shut knife, he always looked only half that height.

He was thin and frail-looking ot the extent that, no matter when you met him, he looked as if he was just recovering from a long illness.

WHEN YOU PLACE PATSY GALLACHER'S DEEDS OF GLORY FOR CELTIC ALONGSIDE THAT SHRIMP-LIKE FRAME, YOU CAN COME TO NO OTHER CONCLUSION THAN THAT HERE, IUNDEED, WAS A FOOTBALL MIRACLE.

LAST GAME FOR IRELAND.

I knew Patsy well, mostly in the twilight of his career and in the days of his football retirement.

His last game for Ireland was my first game for Scotland

On the Friday night I was having a quiet walk round the deck of the Belfast boat.

From out of the darkness came a voice — "Can you not sit down, young fellow — you are rocking the boat."

And there, sitting hunched up beside a lifeboat, was the great little man himself.

"You're an amateur," he said. "Well, that's the way to play football, if you can afford it." Almost as if he were apologising for being a professional.

Patsy Gallacher was born in a little Irish hamlet by the name of Ramelton, in Donegal.

He was still a babe in arms when his parents left Ireland to settle in Clydebank.

He was signed for Celtic when he was 17.

"And," he told me that night on the Belfast boat, "I have spent most of the time trying to get out of the way of big fellows like you."

Suddenly he said, "Have you played against Jimmy McGrory yet? Watch this one, he'll make them all sit up yet. I've been telling people that for four years now."

GREATEST GOAL.

To be precise, it was January 20, 1923, that Gallacher called off through injury. Mcgrory took his place against Third Lanark. It was his first game for Celtic.

After the game, Gallacher told manager Willie Maley that "there would be no end to the goals this boy would score for Celtic."

However, despite the hundreds of goals scored by McGrory for Celtic, Jimmy himself still says the greatest goal ever scored in football came from the foot of Patsy Gallacher himself.

Let Jimmy take over from here with his own description of that goal.

McGrory: It was in the 1925 Scottish Cup final. We were a goal down to Dundee, and there were only minutes left for play. Gallacher was standing in a harmless-looking position in our own penalty area when Peter Wilson gave him a square pass. Off he wandered upfield, beating no fewer than five Dundee players on the way. Twice he was brought down, twice there were roars of "penalty." But he still held on to that ball. The second time he was brought down was right in the Dundee goalmouth. He lay on his back, with the ball firmly wedged between his two feet.

SOMERSAULT.

» Suddenly, as other Dundee defenders came racing in, Patsy did a complete somersault and rolled backwards with the ball at his fee right into the Dundee net.

» I haven't seen every goal that has been scored in football, yet I've no hesitation in saying there never has been a greater one than that. Also, it brought us in with a chance of winning, which we duly took two minutes from time.

When Jimmy says "WE," he's being modest.

Because it was McGrory who scored that cup final winner two minutes from time.

But to the 80,000 who still remember that game it will always be "Patsy's final."

Where he got his stamina from was the mystery of his generation. Because he seldom trained.

On the boat going over for the 1927 international, he said to me — "Don't be holding that ball too long tomorrow or I'll be dunting you into the back of the net. I'm away up to nearly nine stones now. In fact, I'm seriously thinking about starting training."

Yes, STARTING training, and he had already been 16 years a senior footballer.

DIDN'T TRAIN.

A former colleague once told me, "At Celtic Park, Patsy was a law unto himself. He joked and fooled around when we were doing trackwork, but nobody ever bothered. After all, he was so slight, and so frail, and had such a natural build-up of stamina that he didn't need to train at all."

For all that, his apparent frailness was deceptive.

In one of his first internationals for Ireland, the teams were crossing over for the kick-off when his immediate opponent, a large and muscular half-back, said out of the corner of his mouth, "Gallacher — I'm going to get you."

Patsy said nothing. But five minutes after the kick-off, the pair clashed. And it was the burly one who was carried off.

"If need be, let them know you're on the park." That was the Gallacher motto.

Gallacher's era with Celtic coincided with the club's greatest Scottish Cup triumphs.

He was only a season at Celtic Park when he picked up his first cup-winners' medal. That was when they beat Clyde 2-0 in the 1912 final.

Two years later he was adding No. 2 to his collection when Celts beat Hibs 4-1 in the 1914 final. Because of the war, that was the last final to be played for five years. But when the Scottish Cup tournament was resumed again, Gallacher and Celtic were soon back on the trail.

In 1923 they again took the cup to Parkhead, thanks to a Joe Cassidy goal against Hibs in the final.

Another two years and it was the Celtic v. Dundee final.

So long as Patsy Gallacher was around, it was a case of honours all the way for Celtic.

It was also during his days of greatness that Celtic set up a Scottish League record that will probably never be broken.

From November 13, 1915, to April 21, 1917, they had a run of 63 consecutive league games without suffering a defeat.

The team that eventually shattered that proud record was Kilmarnock, with a 2-0 victory at Celtic Park. But Patsy Gallacher wasn't playing that day!

The Gallacher household down at Clydebank was one of the happiest in the land.

I was amazed, therefore, when I met Patsy one day and he said, "We had a bit of a row last night."

Gallacher: My boy Willie came bursting in to tell me he had signed for Celtic. And that started it. Because all along, ever since I left Celtic Park, I had made up my mind that if ever any of my sons became footballers, they would never play for Celtic. Not that I had anything against Celtic. Nobody ever worshipped the club more. So much so, I just didn't want any son of mine to go there and be the victim of comparison. I had the feeling that, no matter how good any of my boys turned out, there would always be those at Celtic Park ever ready to say, 'He'll never be a player like his father.'

After his playing career was over, Willie Gallacher once told me thatm looking back, his father had been bang on the mark in his predictions.

Willie's young brother Tommy, now a football journalist, made a bigger impact on the game.

I've always felt that, when Tommy left Queen's Park, he would have loved to join Celtic.

But all the time, ringing in his ears, was his dad's advice — "Any club BUT Celtic."

So the road was made easy for Tommy joining Dundee.

And maybe a large measure of his success there was due to the fact that he was too far away for any comparisons to be made with his illustrious father.

After 14 years at Celtic Park, Patsy Gallacher was transferred to Falkirk. Time and injuries were by then catching up on him.

There were those through Brockville way who criticised the directors for signing "an old done man." But soon he proved he had lost none of his old genius, and the crowds started rolling back to Brockville.

He was instrumental in bringing about one of the greatest achievements of the Falkirk club.

The year was 1927. Falkirk were drawn at home against Rangers in the fourth round of the Scottish Cup.

Yes, Rangers — who hadn't won the Scottish Cup for 24 years. With their greatest team ever, surely this was to be THEIR year.

But the hoodoo was still hanging over the Ibrox club. It took a last-minute penalty goal by Billy McCandless to earn Rangers a replay at Ibrox.

"I'LL CALL FOR IT"

I was one of the 80,000 crowd that went along for the Wednesday replay.

In the dressing-room before the game, Patsy Gallacher made one of his very few speeches to his fellow players.

"I'm a wee bit tired," he said, "so don't give me the ball unless you hear me calling for it. Furthermore, I've a feeling the tactics being arranged next door will be designed to keep me out of the game as much as possible. But don't think I'm shirking anything, because I'll be there or thereabouts at the end."

So Falkirk took the field.

They played their hearts out — in vain. They had waited for fully 84 minutes on Patsy Gallacher "calling for the ball."

Six minutes to go, the score was still 0-0, then it happened. Patsy shouted for the ball from Joe Gowdy.

Showing fantastic control as he swerved and dribbled his way towards Rangers' goal, he finally had the whole defence mesmerised.

THEN HE CASUALLY ROLLED THE BALL ACROSS GOAL TO THE UNCOVERED MASON AND SAID, "THERE YOU ARE HIT IT!" MASON DID. THE BALL FLEW INTO THE NET.

RANGERS BEATEN.

Falkirk held out to the end. And Rangers, for yet another year, were out of the Scottish Cup.

The genius of Patsy Gallacher had once again set the seal on one of football's most memorable occasions.

Celtic's failing in recent years has been their failure to unearth a ball-playing inside-forward of the Patsy Gallacher mould.

The tradition of the club has always been that, with the right man at inside-forward, it should be no bother for the centre-forward to score the goals.

In his days at Celtic Park, Patsy Gallacher was the means of spoon-feeding many famous centres — Jimmy Quinn, Joe Cassidy, Jimmy McColl, Willie Crilly, Tommy McInally, and Jimmy McGrory.

And Jimmy McGrory, now Celtic's manager, must lie in his bed at night and dream about signing another Patsy Gallacher.

"Without any reservations whatever," says Jimmy, "Patsy was the greatest player I ever played with or ever saw playing."

FOR THE CELTIC STORY REACHED ITS GREATEST HEIGHTS IN THE ERA OF THAT TINY, HUNGRY-LOOKING, INCONSPICUOUS, PROVOCATIVE BUNDLE OF SHEER GENIUS ENCASED IN A GREEN AND WITHE JERSEY. A JERSEY, BY THE WAY, WHICH ALWAYS LOOKED ABOUT FOUR SIZES TOO BIG FOR HIM!