An interesting part of the last season has seen many football fans, including Etims Diary readers, turn around and tell Sky Sports TV to rammit with cancelled subscriptions and then give a polite No Thanks when duly begged to remain as loyal customers ( Fergus McCann just smiled and doesnt know why – Ed).
Various reasons have been cited:
- Exploitation of punters with ever rising costs.
- A total lack of respect for the Scottish game with low payments and crazy match scheduling , often at very late notice to detriment of travelling fans.
- A personal hate, the idiotic praise for Gary Nevilles banality – Im sorry but saying things like “The defender had to do better to stop that striker getting passed him and scoring” is NOT genius insight – (And release – Ed)
It wasnt always like that you know.
Back in the day, there was a genuine media outlet that people could go to with glee and dare i say it, respect. People would flock to this information supplier and sit there in rature, hanging on every word, kicking every ball, crossing every finger, living every sweet moment whenever they could, for one very important aspect to rememeber, there wasnt saturation like there was with SKY and its competitors, this was a one stop gig, not a monopoly but more like a Charity, everyone felt priviledged if you found out you had access to the game.
What was this strange alluring media outlet?
RADIO..the media heroin of the football fan of days gone by!
Sadly people today see the words Football and radio and the thoughts in their head are pretty ghastly including:
- Adrian Durham and his mentalist rantings.
- Radio 5 Live and its refusal to see the English premiership for what it truly is…a fat cash cow, force fed on bullshit and lardy praise and ready to burst
- TalkShite radio and its obsession with Engerlund
- Radio Clyde and its biased Superscoreboard and pandering to idiots then slamming same idiots when the desired brouhaha is generated.
- Radio Scotland and its crazy ability to hire ex Rangers players who clearly have no presence, personality or appreciation of football whatsoever, and we wont bother mentioning any bias over there and Tam Cowans sulking whenever Motherwell\Dundee Utd fail to offer a starlet more than 5 groats a week and he leaves for Parkhead.
It wasnt always like that though.
Some of us on here are old enough to remember the glory days. Yes its green tinted earplug romanticising I know, but there really was something glorious at smiling when just finding out “The games on the tranny tonight!”
Cue the clock watching and then the dial turning as you tried to find your radio reception. Digital Schmigital..this was RSI inducing antics. If you were lucky you got a good signal, if you werent ( as normal) it was a crackling low volume reception but somehow that was part of it, a price to pay…like a junkie knowing the score is cut up with talc…we took our fix anyway we could get it and were silent and grateful.
Just this week on Etims Season review piece I found myself remembering a moment from radio listening days gone passed:
I mind jumping for joy when he ( John Hughes) scored against Hearts when I was stuck in a crappy wee bedsit down South just about getting a Radio Scotland signal on the tranny.
This was only in the 90s, not 50 years ago, and also generated this reply from BondiBhoy
..got me thinking about the time ah lived in a bedsit in Tottenham listening to the tranny as the Meastro missed the penalty againts Raith Rovers in that final….then radio flung across ( about all of 10 feet in distance ) across the room
Bondhibhoys reply reminded me that I also listened to the raith Rovers game. That was in my cousins kitchen in Blackpool. Even the losing game memories stay fresh in the mind when captured through the ears.
My personal favourite ‘Fitbaw on the Tranny’ memory however was a wednesday night late September back in ’82 and cue me grudgingly getting sent up for a bath by my mum while my late Dad was in the kitchen sitting staring and pawing at a tranny playing loud static noises as he tried to find “The Game”.
The stage was set. It was the second leg and Celtic had a mountain to climb and hope wasnt high, despite them still being in the tie at 3-3 on aggregate( but losing on away goals rule) with only 5 minutes to go… but Celtic being Celtic, Football and radio glory was on its way.
I can still remember straining in the bath( steady!) to hear the radio from way down in the kitchen but what a moment when I heard a crackling voice whisper “Its a goal!” followed by a very load YESSSSSS! from my Dad who was usually more of a quiet sort of guy.
Cue much splashing and rejoicing after George McKinlay Cassidy McCluskey had stepped up and secured a wonderful win over Ajax, Johan Cruffs Ajax no less, in Amsterdam, no less!
Due to an advertising dispute, there was no TV highlights ( youtube here) but far away across the sea, through those beautiful radio waves, oh god bless those beautiful radio waves, me, my dad and Celtic fans abound got to share that wonderful win and got to store away some wonderful coveted memories.
Technology moves on of course, it has to and we all accept that. Every generation will have their own version of romantic stories ala “We sat in Peru and streamed the historic win to qualify for Champions Leadue in 2016” or potentially “We plugged ourselves in and downloaded the feed for the Scottish Cup in 2034” but its all relative and nothing to me will ever be more relative than the radio. Especially that night in 82.
So for one last time, G’aun yirself Da, one more time: “YESSSSSSSSSSSS!”
Desimond
So whats your favourite radio listening memory..Lounge listening to 67 Lisbon?…Straining to hear Seville in some distant bodega…A Jimmy Sanderson orphanage spoof sketch? maybe even Pensionerbhoy recalling seeing a bloke name Marconi dribbling touchside at Parkhead?
Let us know in the comments below..
810mw and walking round the room trying to find a signal that didnt sound like you were rustling a crisp poke.happy days!
kenthehorse
I used to pretend I was taking the wife for a nice drive in the country just to try and get a signal on 810mw somewhere in Northumberland. Inevitably it turned out to be the best crackle station in England. When I did get something it was never when they told the score. That’s how I lost my hair.
H H
My big evening with radio was the love street win and the hearts capitulation to Dundee, listening to it with my dad in the car (a ford escort) on the way home on second avenue in Clydebank. We had to stop the car when Kidd scored as I think he was about to crash! Ahhh memories, I’d never have remembered that or had the same experience if it was on the telly.
Has to be Richard Park’s “if you’re a Celtic fan and you’re near Love Street, why aren’t you here!” from 1986. I was there but on getting home drunk in the early hours they were repeating the commentary on Clyde. I hit record and fell asleep. Tape did the rounds for months. Whoever’s got it could they get it back to me.
The away game v Ajax in 2001. I was working in Yorkshire and spent the evening driving round trying to get any half decent reception. I was up and down every hill around Leeds.
Then the joy, later in the week when I got home, of seeing what is probably my favourite goal of the Martin O’Neill era, Chris Sutton’s header for 3 1. Agatha for once played a sumptuous cross and Sutton produced a header that was unsaveable.
Same game as my best memory; I was working in Somerfield back shift, so got the game going over the shop tannoy system. Strangely, the Sutton header is also one of my all time favourite Celtic goals!
Sporting Lisbon game in 1983 I think, first leg on Radio Clyde (261 -still the best for you was the jingle)finished 0-2 to Sporting in Lisbon.
Anyway I was in my bed and my late brother was in his and Frank Skerrett show came on the radio after the game and said that Celtic had a deckchair defence – it folded under pressure. Still makes me laugh to this day.
Anyway , the return leg(in the famous lime green strip) is part of Celtic Folklore.
DAB my arse !
may 1998, sat down to listen to celtic v st johnstone to stop the ten… having never seen celtic win the league before this match was huge… didnt reaslise the importance of stopping the ten i just wanted to be able to say celtic are champions!! the first half was flipping between celtic park and tannadice and remember after 2 mins the host saying “news of a goal at celtic park” thinking the worst my head was in my hands however i soon relaised it was a celtic goal when all you could hear in the background was full blooded screaming!!! cue jumping on the push bike and cycling frantically around the scheme trying to find anyone with a deadco strip on!!! great day!!!
Me too. I was one of many crammed into The Sarry Head. They had 810mw on. the last thing I heard that day was ‘MacNamara crosses’. It was sheer bedlam. Brilliant.It took us an hour to find out who had scored.
Brilliant article Desi – I too remember going totally mental over the George McCluskey goal Vs Ajax, as I listened to the Radio Scotland commentary. Cruyff had just trudged off the pitch to huge acclaim from the locals, as a sub came on in his place, and it all looked like a “job well done” for the Dutch, when up stepped George!
A couple from me, that night against ajax I still remember my dad all ready for nightshift down the pit standing at the back door knowing that he might miss the pit bus if he waited until the end of the game, ach he said we won’t do it. So off he went up the hill with my brother 20 feet behind him shouting we scored we scored. Also taking the dug a 5 mile walk every Saturday afternoon listening to whatever game was on. Ah the memories. And you try and tell the kids nowadays and they say what’s a radio?
Definitely the Celtic v hearts Scottish Cup semi-final in 1988. My Dad had promised me and my wee brother that he would take us to the final if we got there. We’re 1 down with 3 minutes to go and thinking that we won’t be going to our very first cup final. Mark McGhee equalises. We’re running up and down the garden, jumping around like headcases saying that we might be going after all. There’s still 3 minutes left and the commentator is saying that Aitken is urging everyone forward, There’s a lofted ball into the box, the keeper drops it and it’s a goal for Celtic. I will never forget the absolute bedlam in our back garden, We were on our way out and 3 minutes later we were on our way to Hampden. There’s definitely something magical about the radio!
Being on my ship listening to the Bhoys putting the mighty Real Madrid to the sword in the EC not sure if it was the Quarter final round or second?
I was in the RN at the time and was sitting off the Iranian peninsula during the U.S. hostage crisis when the game was aired via the World Service. I cannot describe the feeling as the great Jonny Doyle scored with the header! As you can imagine then as now there was no regard for ” Jock Football ” as my mates slagged it off as Micky mouse.
Needless to say a few wets were taken that night! Cannot believe it I 35 years ago!!!
Sitting in my mate’s West End flat in 1986 listening to the final league games from Dens Park and Love Street. Cue one man bedlam at the final whistle…as said mate was a fan of the dark side….a night of celebrations at Strathclyde Union. Same night as the Eurovision Song Contest if memory serves. Even had a tricolour hanging in the doorway into the bar that other patrons were asked to bow before!
Will always remember listening to Love Street ’86 and beating Hearts in injury time in centenary season SCSF with my dad…
However… although I hate to speak ill of the dead… I’ve got a special place in my heart for when the Horde slipped up against Killie in 1998 to leave us needing a home win against St Johnstone for the title.
I’d gotten absolutely bladdered the night before, but had also committed to playing fives in the early afternoon next day (hey I was 21… this was not impossible in such distant times). I came home in a somewhat tired and confused state and listened to the game on the radio. I was lying on top of the bed, half-conscious.
After we’d blown it against Dunfermline the week before I began to feel our chance had gone, and entertained some paranoia that Rangers would be given every helping hand by the officials to win 10 in a row.
My fears were allayed when, with the scores locked at 0-0, Rangers were given an entirely justified five minutes of time added on for stoppages by Bobby Tait in their push for that vital goal which would give them the edge.
In the very final minute of which, Ally Mitchell scored for Killie.
I sprang out of bed, Nosferatu style, and ran about the house like a madman.
Went back out that night. It was a brilliant night.
But not as good as the one I had seven days later.
I remember hearing Williamsons Killie had scored and actually being so excited that I ran out the house and down to my mates door and banging on his front door screaming “Theyve scored! Theyve scored!”.
He opened the door and stared at me like I was a Martian.
And he calls himself a Tim tae!
1974. Me, my dad and my uncle pacing the floor in my granny’s house listening to the away leg of the Atletico game. Which didnt turn out well. Yet they thought there was always next year. I went home and used my plastic soldiers to invade Spain. Then in 1982 the “its a goal to Celtic” when McCluskey secured the win. Larsson scoring against st.johnstone on the way to stopping the ten as I drove home from lichfield, a polite applause which nearly sent the car into a ditch. Oh and cutting my knuckles on the car roof when we beat ajax in the qualifiers. Maybe I won’t listen to a game again while driving.
Aye. Many’s the time I listened to crackling radio signals so poor even the CIA couldn’t decipher them. Radio commentators were very excitable creatures, so I lost count of the number of times the signal faded at the wrong moment and I was convinced Celtic had scored (ever the optimist), only to find out minutes later that the excited squeaks were nothing more than a throw-in just over half-way.
BTW I was in the Ajax “stand” (in the old Olympic stadium)with a M8 & 2 g/f’s when George McCluskey scored that winner and we needed a police escort to get out safely – really
The radio memories that stick most in my mind aren’t from a particular match, but from the time I was living in London and playing fitba every Saturday afternoon. The radio was always on in the dressing rooms and there were always quite a few Scottish guys (kicking with different feet) playing for various teams in our league. Any time there was an OF match on, the tension around the dressing rooms afterwards, waiting for BBC radio to switch to the reporter at Celtic Park or Ibrokes to hear the result was truly unbearable – quite often unBEARable in those days – as the rest of your w/e (at least) depended on it.
BTW2 I doubt if Marconi was on the wing in Pensionerbhoys day – more likely Cassini or Gallileo 🙂
* Memory may be at fault in fact… was Dunfermline slip-up the day after?
Either way reaction/outcome was the same!
1967 On a merchant navy ship listening to an Italian radio in New York
harbour.
Jeezo, that’s spooky. I was in a bath listening to that game too!
Only difference was that I screamed ‘Yeeesss’ and my dad came to the door to see what happened.
Early memory of being in primary school and the teacher letting us listen to an afternoon Euro game – Ujpest Dosza maybe!
My favourite radio story is an Old Firm game – remember when we had those? in november 1997. I had just moved down to england for a job in the october and this was this first time I had lived away.
I was living in a council flat with 1970’s carpets and a wee old deaf lady that lived above me and played her telly at full volume and did the hoovering at 4am.
I had very little furniture or appliances of any kind with one of the few being my old ghetto blaster, one with the double tape deck. As I struggled to get 810mw the signal came and went depending on the movement of the people in the ajacent flats or the switching on of a kettle. I would try and tweak the dial a micro millimeter to catch the signal only seeming to always go past the station to another state of static a bit liketrying to get the temperature right in a shower mixer tap, going from ice cold to 400 degrees just by looking at the tap.
Anyway, we were losing to them as we always did and I was begniing to become more frustrated by the minute until the game edged inexorably into injury time. At this point I had had enough, 10iar was a mere formality now and I switched the radio off in disgust, well actually with enough force to pull the knob off the aging machine.
I sat on the floor in silence for a minute then paced out into the hall and back until I was sure the ref had blown his whistle but couldn’t just leave it at that, I HAD to know, I didn’t have any hope but I wouldn’t have slept if I didn’t know for sure that Rangers had won so I reattached the button and flicked the switch. The radio crackled to life slowly with what I could sense was a rising tone of the commentator followed by the unmistakable sound of a Celtic Park crowd going bananas. Was it a goal, was it for celtic afterall or were my ears decieving me? I couldn’t hear much between the static and the crowd but somehow the voice of the commentator came through and sure enough, Stubbs had scored a last ditch equaliser.
I stood up so fast I kicked the old ghetto blaster half way across the room where it finally expired and shouted so loud, the wee old deaf woman up the stairs banged on the floor to quieten me down. We had a draw, the league was still on and all was well with the world – for a few hours at least. An hour later I headed out to the nearest call box to call my dad who had been at the game and would surely be home to hear all the fine details.
I still maintain, that the two things that won us the league that season was the performance against Liverpool in the UEFA cup, where we visibly grew in stature that night as the game progressed and we learned to play the Jansen way…and THAT goal.
Stubbs, you are one of my heros and I hope you win the league next year big man
1967 when Big Billy scored the last minute winner against Vojvodina
In the 70´s we still had the radio that my folks had got as a wedding present in 1954. It was about the length of a shoe box and about twice the height, black with a white panel at the front. I can see it clearly to this day. It had its crackly moments depending on where the program was being broadcast but it had good volume. I remember STANDING in the kitchen during the whole match, almost on top of it sitting on its shelf, listening to the voices of Arthur Montford, Bob Crampsey and that other guy, God forgive me but his name escapes me (James Francie?). I can hear his voice to this day..he was a great commentator, the voice of Scottish radio football commentary. The nostalgia of those days is just beautiful and irreplaceable…just like Celtic. H.H.
Funkky
His name was Devid Francey and he was a fine commentator. Wolstenholme gets the credit for the Lisbon final but Francey’s radio commentary was up there with the best. He and Crampsie were educated men and their commentaries reflected both their knowledge of the game and their intelligence, a far, far cry from the “up the back close” orators of today. Many compared David Francey in football to Bill McLaren in rugby and I would find it hard to argue that.
H H
Am I correct in thinking Bob was a teacher at the Mungo Townhead?. Hh
Mines was in 9th February 1987 in a shelter on the Promenade on Rothesay about 8 of us gathered round my big brothers Hitachi “Ghetto Blaster”.
It was a scottish Cup SECOND REPLAY against Aberdeen at Dens Park.
Reception was brutal had those we mental pitch noises all the way through it.
McClair scored the winner in a very tense game.
We were all fucked by the end of it totally drained by the experience but screaming the place down for the win.
Much merry ment was also made of the obligatory El-D Cashe from the offy.
cache’
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CKpvRilHq7Q
Desi
Never realised how powerful a media this old wireless thing can be. Phenomenal listening. Who is the Peter Martin guy, by the way?
H H
Peter Martin McGuire(surname dropped for potential hun displeasement aka scottish career suicide)..used to be on Radio Clyde but now on a show with ex Celtic keeper Alan Rough on one of the other non BBC stations..might even be covered via the telly/webcam
http://www.bbc.co.uk/sport/0/football/20246561
Desi
A night when even the Anglo Saxon commentator was forced to give credit where it was due.
H H
Great article Desi!
Unfortunately, I can’t remember my fave radio memory, but I’m sure it will come back to me if/when it’s posted. Grrr. harumphh ..more grumpy noises
BTW Pensionerbhoy probably doesn’t remember Marconi dribbling down the wing – I think he was more from the Cassini or Gallileo era
Retrieved from SPAM…dont ask why, its WordPress to blame.
Honest.
CJB
I’m watching you through my new invention. I’m calling it a telescope 🙂
H H
Nae borra PB – Maybe it was typo and he meant Macari not Marconi? 🙂
CJB
Naw. I know him too well. He meant Marconi all right. He was actually hoping to find a prehistoric “radiographer”.
H H
Arthur aka Pensionerbhoy..the only guy in Etims who thought Morse Code was a new dance beat!
Desi
In my day it was called tap, tap, tap dancing, 1 long step, 1 short step and 1 long again then run for it!!!!
H H
Desi
It must have been terrible in your day. At least I had the wireless and the telegraph – as long as the baddies didn’t cut the wires that was. You mentioned Marconi. Well, I may have missed him playing but I remember listening to one of his wirelesses, crackles et al. There were programmes that taxed the brain such as 20 questions (slightly different from “20 reasons”) chaired by the famous (well, he was then) Gilbert Harding and David Dimbleby, father of the now well known David and Jonathan, was a regular panellist. There were really exciting thrillers too like Dick Barton, Special Agent – and no, not because he offered EBTs – or Paul Temple P.I. and, of course, the Captain Kirk of the 50s, Dan Dare. Sadly you will have missed all this Desi while you were in the home :).
But you might like to know that after your time there was an invention called TV and though it was monopolised here by BBC it still showed the first televised world cup for nout, squiggly lines ‘n all. I remember sitting on the floor in our neighbour’s house (the only “Catholic” TV in the village) in my short legged breeks ‘n gutties (I was in my teens and still had to wear them. That was life – and fashion in those days) watching something that the big men there called the world cup. To me it looked like a heart monitor in the hospital except for the squeaky voices and the shouting. Of course it did seem strange that the men were constantly jumping up and down and cheering. It appeared a bit off that they would do that when someone had such a bad heart condition. I think my old man let me into the secret soon after when he thought I had the brains to understand football. I guess he got that one wrong. The tournament was in Switzerland (that’s where the watch tradition with FIFA started and continues today) and even though they lost the war The Hun won the big cup (if only the hun could do the same in Europe – missed their chance just like Her Hitler). It was a bit of a surprise as they defeated a team most people considered then to be the world’s best, Hungary, who had slaughtered der Engerlanders 6-3 at Wembley in 1953 and then 7-1 in Hungary just prior to the World Cup. Mind you, if there had been another war then, the whole Hungarian team would have been in the front line. Those were the days. Now I have to content myself to games on…….aha! CTV audio which means crapy radio as ever. Nout fucking changes 🙂 Well maybe the colour of the specs.
My best “radio” memories are 1957, 1979 and 1986. ’57 was, of course, the famous 7-1 slaughter of old Rangers. That will for ever be a joyous sound in my ears even when I am totally deaf. Thank God for radio then as the impartial BBC conveniently cocked up (sorry Archie. I will simply never believe the official version) any film footage. But who needs pictures when the sound of success booms for ever at 7 to 1 decibels in your head.
’79 was the 4-2 defeat to win the league. I could not get to the game because of work commitments and just managed to get in for the second half. By then, Johnny Doyle (RIP) had been ordered off and they were 1-0 up. I really could not stand these games even though I regularly physically attended them. On radio, however, they were a nightmare which was not relieved by dubious commentaries. I could not bear to listen to that mob giving us a doing so switched off. However, I could not stop myself listening towards the end hoping they had not humiliated us. I must have nearly died without knowing it when I heard we were winning 3-2 because my memory of the moment is numb. Disbelief has little meaning in these circumstances. But then, Murdo blooters another just before the end and we have a resounding 4-2 win. I shut off the radio/wireless (who fucking cares, Desi) jumped in my car without saying a word to the wife and drove 15 miles to my da’s to share in the rejoicing. I will never know how I made it without crashing. My excitement was so great I peed myself without wetting my trousers. Yes it was that fantastic an occasion. Anyway, I got to my father’s about 10-10.30. The house was in darkness and I hesitated thinking he would be asleep. I knew he would be like me and have switched off after we went down, if he listened at all. He detested these games. I knocked the door and eventually, in his “night clothes” he opened up and stared half asleep in dismay. I knew by his face he did not know the score and was somewhat perturbed that I should get him out of bed. That was simply adding salt to the wound. I pretended I was just passing and thought I would call in and commiserate with him. I put on a good act for about 5 minute but then I had to tell him. Maybe I should have been more subtle as I think I nearly killed him. He was quite an old fella by then and too much excitement could have been bad for him. But in fact he was, shall we say, over the moon. If I had not been driving, I think we would have scoffed at least a bottle of whisky – he was not a drinker, but occasions must sometimes. However, we both eventually calmed down, reminisced till God knows what wee sma’ hours. I went home to have the best night’s sleep of my life in spite of the grilling I was going to get from the missus as to my whereabouts in the middle of the night. But that’s a story for another time probably.
Then there was 86. Once again I could not get to the game. This time family commitments stopped me going. I was not that disappointed actually because it seemed almost impossible we could take the league from a buoyant Hearts especially with the goal average difference. After all Hearts only needed a draw and were, I think, 4 goals ahead of us. Dundee was not the team we expected to turn that around. This time I was determined to “hear” it through and Radio Scotland provided one of the most disappointing yet exhilarating afternoons of my football life. No need to remind everyone we won 5-0 against St. Mirren and Dundee stole the draw from Hearts. I guess it was “kid’s” stuff and oor Albert will be as much part of Celtic history as any of the greats. I did not make any mad journeys that day but my rejoicing was just as great.
Whew! These memories are making me quite emotional. If the wireless provided such an impact, one that has lasted ……umpteen years, then it can not be such a bad invention.
Ta much, Marconi – loved all your goals especially those against “them” 🙂
H H
was in a car in pouring rain in Leeds watching a student football match when Celtic triumphed at Love street and Hearts failed against Dundee. Cue mad rush of blood a one man pitch invasion and diving into the mud celebration ( I think I invented that ) much to the astonishment of the student players and coaches. Radio magic!
I was playing fitba in an away game in Pollock that day our game finished early and we all sat on the bus waiting for the final whistle.
A bus predominantly full of huns btw.
Oh how we fucking stuck it to them hehe.
All the way back to Rothesay those poor basas had to put up with the singing.
It was Possilpark I remember the weans setting fire to the garages near the pitch during the game wee reprobates :-0
I listened to the penalty kicks from the 94 league cup final in Santa Ponsa on BBC World Service,they went from some crappy English game live only for the penalties, I’m sitting with man utd and Liverpool fans assuring them there’s no way we’ll get beat on penalties,well the rest is history. I was on my honeymoon and 21 years later its a miracle she stayed with me.She found me in the bar roaring drunk and greeting like a wean.Thank god she got to like Celtic and fitba in general.I got rid of sky,love the radio still,especially midweek games for some reason.Memories are made of such….
read your piece about the radio. I live in England and used to listen to the games on Radio Scotland. I could only get reception during daylight. Once darkness came a Spanish football station would block the transmission. This made listening very difficult during the winter months. I used to listen to the games outside in a shed, when Henrik scored I used to ring a bell. Ah the memories!
The Spanish station! It sounded like they were broadcasting from next door.
David Francey on BBC Scotland was without doubt the best radio commentator – he could make any game sound exciting and thus extremely stressful whenever Celtic were playing important games – I well remember the 1971 cup final and replay against Rangers. These were the days when on the Saturday we only got a commentary on the last 30 minutes and there was none of this hoping around the grounds to get the latest scores. In more recent times – mid 1990s I was listening to the BBC World Service when in Geneva that was taking BBC 2’s sports coverage when I heard the presenter say ‘and now let’s go to Celtic Park in Glasgow where we gather that there’s been a goal’, only to have the World Service announcer intervene to say ‘and there was must leave the sport for …’ FFS was my immediate reaction.
jrw
I had forgotten about the second half only. Thanks for the memory. I do recall however, that during the rugby international season it was not uncommon for the broadcast to end abruptly in order to cover the rugby. I could never get my head around that. Football was supposed to be the most popular sport yet gave way to snobs and fermers in stalkers and tweeds (ok, that was only the supporters) running with an egg shaped baw. I guess we were not classed as “the peeple” when they called football the people’s game.
H H
Desi
The number of comments and their content (including your own, if I may say so) just shows I am not as auld as you make me out to be 🙂
Also shows how old times are the best. Thanks for the trips down memory lane. Great article.
H H
I still do the 810 MW (but only in the winter – don’t get it in the summer, sure some astrophysicist can explain why) to listen to evening games on my way home from work
My “radio” game was in 2000. I was working in the USA – East Coast – between NYC and Boston, and could get radio from the computer through some speakers via a thing called the internet – who knew. Anyway – I set my alarm to listen to game where we faced Rangers (I said it was a long time ago) – early kick off’s meant a 6am start for me. I wasn’t really awake (shouldn’t have gone out the night before). As I drifted in and out of consciousness, I must have been dreaming, because I thought that I heard that Celtic were 3 – 0 after about 10 minutes…..
Pensionerbhoy, you´re right, it was David Francey. I might have forgot his name, but I can still remember his voice. He could make a poor 0-0 draw interesting and even exciting. In those days the commentators new the first rule of the job, DESCRIBE what’s happening on the pitch don’t try to come across as a super techno-analyst. David, Arthur and Bob delivered the goods…who can forget gentleman Arthur´s “Up go the heads” or “..a stramash in the area”?
Nowadays we get a bunch of overpaid self-promoters who try to come across as all-knowledgeable about the beautiful, simple, game.
It was great reading all your memories guys, brought back a few for me too.
EC final in Lisbon at the mercy of the BBC World Service. I had been at the 1/4 fand Semi Final games at Parkhead, but found myself in the middle of the bloody Atlantic for the final. Now the World Service back then broadcast on Short Wave to just about every country in the world. Only problem I had was there isnt any coutries in the middle of the Atlantic! There I was in the radio room with earphones firmly on head jumping from set to set as the crap reception got crapper as the game went on. By full time I knew we had equalised but didnt know the final score. Cue sleepless hours waiting for the news to come though via teletype. This was basically a big typewriter which decoded a morse message and printed in out one letter at a time. As I hovered over it I had to wait as the international news of the day came though, clak, clak, clak, clak, clak one letter at a time, followed by the home news, clak, clak, clak, clak,…one letter at a time, followed at last by the sports news. European Cup Final, clak, clak, clak, clak Internationale Milan 1 clak, clak, clak, clak, clak, (seemingly going on for ever),…Celtic 2!! Neadless to say they had to peal me off the deakhead as I went into orbit. I got anxiety attacks for years afterwards whennever I heard a the clak of a typwriter. Thank God they invented computers.
Thats the greatest load of ‘clak’ I’ve ever read..such brilliant memories on here today
My wife tells another one; while growing up in NY State she woke up one Saturday morning seeing a mans legs protruding from the attic above her head into her room. She sreamed her head off which brought her mother racing into the room. “Mammy theres a man breaking in!!” Wee Glesga Mammy said ” Dont be so bloody daft, thats yer faither trying to get the fibaw scores on the wireless.”
Got to be 1986.
Couldn’t go to the match as my wife was working and I had 2 wee tims to look after.
I like a punt in those days and the Tic were 5/1 to win the league, but I didn’t have the balls.I looked in a bookies to see we were 4 up at half time. Then it was down to the local park for play time with the car jukebox on.Then the radio saI’d Kidd had scored and I hoped Albert not Walter, the same for the next goal.
I was at black bow tie dinner a few years ago and a retired David France was one of the speakers. He was going quite well until he proposed a toast to the greatest team in the world -glasgow rangers- it did not go down well to auidence,who were mostly sheepishly and a few tims.
…19-81…listening in ma wee hut on the kibbutz in Israel used to love getting the BBC world service Radio 5, but you only got the last 20 mins of a ‘Scottish game’ would imaging ma mates & family at the gemm!!
…late 1990’s laying awake( coming in fae the pub mair like ) 2am in Sydney, again the BBC on waitin for the Tic score to come through.
HAIL HAIL !!
My old man used to climb a tree in the Transkei in S. Africa in the early ’70’s to get reception for the BBC World Service football scores on a Saturday night.
standing at love st the bhoys winning 5-0 and everybody standing behind goal in big crowds round whoever had a tranny listening to the dundee ,hearts game waiting for a goal fae dundee then the huge roar goes up as albert kidd scores wat a day
I can mind we had wan of they sideboard contraptions that had the turntable that still played 78’s. I’ll never forget the look of disappointment on my auld mans face when we went down in the Bernabeu in the early eighties. I asked him years later about it and he said it wasn’t so much the result but that our time at the tap table clearly ended that night. And in his words, “we were straight back to the fifties.”
One of the first games i remenber llistening to on the tranny
was the 4-4 draw with oldco at snake mountain. After the hoops
raced into an early 2 goal lead it inspired me to go out and find my pals for a game of football, i can still remember the shock horror when i returned to find the orcs 4-3 up late in the game and the euphoria and joy when Murdo smashed in the equalizer. Ah happy days. Hail x2