Billy McNeill MBE

Stephen Kerr Excerpts

Monday 20th May 2019 Commons Chamber

[Brendan O’Hara]

The hon. Gentleman is absolutely correct. I will come later to that golden era of Scottish football. Understandably and probably rightly, Celtic pick up the credit and the limelight, but Scottish football fans in general had so much to celebrate in 1967.

I was lucky enough to meet Billy McNeill several times, both as a fan and latterly in a professional capacity. People say, “Never meet your heroes. You’ll only be left disappointed”, but when I met Billy McNeill nothing could have been further from the truth. One of the first times I met him was in Celtic’s centenary season of 1987-88. I had won first prize in a raffle—well, actually, not me but my mum won first prize, and I was sent to collect her star prize: a brand-new, all-singing, all-dancing colour telly. The second prize was a signed Celtic shirt and ball and the opportunity to watch a Celtic game from the Celtic Park directors box. Fortunately, I managed to persuade the organisers that, as the person who won the raffle, I should be given the choice of which prize to take. Safe to say, my mum never got her new telly.

My brother Diarmid and I got to Celtic Park, and what’s more Billy McNeill, then the manager, took us into the home dressing room an hour before kick-off to meet the players ahead of a crucial match against Aberdeen. It was a wonderful and remarkable gesture. Despite the importance of the fixture, he knew what it meant for fans like us to have this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to be in the Celtic changing room before a big match. I am deeply honoured, therefore, that today, 32 years on, I can go some way to repay that kindness by leading the tributes to Billy McNeill on the Floor of the House of Commons.

Over the years, our paths crossed. When I was working as a TV producer-director, I had occasion to interview Billy McNeill as part of a number of documentaries I was working on. He would always make himself available and his interviews would invariably be thoughtful and considered, but they were also incredibly frustrating, because no matter how much I wanted him to talk about himself and his contribution he simply would not—or probably could not. All he could talk about was the contribution of those around him. An interview with Billy McNeill would be full of: “Yeah, that’s all well and good, but Jimmy Johnstone did that”, or, “Yes, if it hadn’t been for John Clark’s contribution, I’d have been nothing”, or, “That was Bobby Murdoch. What a player he was”. I am reminded of what Jock Stein said when someone asked him what made a great player. He replied that a great player was

“the one who brings out the best in others. When I am saying that I’m talking about Billy McNeill.”

To me, that sums up Billy McNeill. As I said, rarely, if ever, would he talk about how he felt, or give himself the praise that was absolutely his due.

[Stephen Kerr (Stirling) (Con)]

I am grateful to the hon. Gentleman for giving way, and for securing the debate. He has been talking about Billy McNeill, the leader. Billy McNeill inspired confidence in the people around him. I remember, as a little boy, going with my dad to see Celtic for the first time. It was 1 April 1969, and Celtic were playing St Johnstone at the old Muirton Park ground, My dad had taken me to see Celtic because, as a little boy from north-east Scotland, I had not had an opportunity to see them play before. My dad worked on Saturdays; he was a butcher. The score was 2-0 at half-time, to St Johnstone. I was quite fraught. I was eight, and my heroes were being beaten. My dad said, “Don’t worry about it, Stephen: they will come back in the second half and win 3-2”—and they did!

That inspirational feeling that Billy McNeill would generate was evidenced at the Scottish cup final in 1988, when Celtic won 2-1 against Dundee United. Mrs Thatcher presented the cup that day; it was a very memorable day. [Interruption.] Billy McNeill was a great leader in every respect. He was a model of professionalism and leadership for all of us.

[Brendan O’Hara]

And the hon. Gentleman had been doing so well! However, he is right to say that, particularly in that centenary season, there was an aura. There was something that we knew.

The hon. Gentleman will also recall the semi-final when Celtic were a goal down to Hearts and heading for injury time. Somehow we scored two during injury time, and qualified for the final. We were a goal down in the final, but everyone just knew that it was going to be OK because it was written in the stars, and it was OK.

I was talking about Billy McNeill’s self-effacing character. I did once get him to talk about himself and how he felt. He was talking about the greatest moment of his career, when he went up to lift the European cup in Lisbon in 1967, but what he wanted to talk about was his regret at having to go alone. Because of the way in which the stadium was configured, all his team-mates were back in the dressing room, and he alone was taken across the pitch. What he wanted to talk about was how he led a team, yet he had been left to pick up Europe’s premier trophy on his own. That is the kind of player Billy McNeill was. That is the kind of captain Billy McNeill was. That is the kind of man Billy McNeill was.

Billy McNeill was born in Bellshill, Lanarkshire, on 2 March 1940. His dad, Jimmy, a Dundonian, was a career soldier who served 22 years with the Black Watch. His mum, Ellen, was the daughter of Lithuanian migrants, who, as Billy says in his autobiography, left Lithuania believing they were heading for the United States, only to be dumped on the docks of Leith by some unscrupulous sea captain. But my goodness, America’s loss was most certainly Scotland’s gain. Billy’s maternal grandparents gravitated towards Lanarkshire, where they settled, along with about 7,000 other Lithuanians who had gone there primarily to work in the coal mines.