Free Keep Fighting by Paul Harrison Page B

times, you couldn't do that now with all the cameras on you. There was another time when Willie kept getting one of our player's name wrong. Throughout training he would be calling him Bob, eventually the player came to him and said, “Will you stop calling me Bob, my name isn't Bob.” Quick as flash, Willie, said, “Oh, okay sorry pal.” Thereafter he called him “Touchy sod”. That was Willie through and through.
    ‘Jimmy Johnstone was another who liked a dram or two. What a player he was, I don't know another player who could drink as much then go out and play a full game on a belly full of ale. Jimmy is such a lovely guy, and back then, drinking and smoking wasn't the sin it has been made out to be now. Most players enjoyed a fag and a pint, in moderation of course. It's natural when old pals get together to represent their country that there is going to be a bit of daftness at times. I remember Jimmy getting so drunk once, that he took a rowing boat and went out to sea. He was pissed. The tide carried the boat out away from the coastline, Jimmy was drifting away. There was a lot of panicking, and the coastguard was called out to rescue him. It was all good humoured, although a bit dangerous too; the press got hold of itand tried to malign us all. The end result was Jimmy playing the game of his life for Scotland and it was even nicer that it was England we beat, 2-0. I remember Jimmy running up to the press pack as each goal went in, and giving them the salute they deserved. Agitators the lot of them.
    ‘I don't think it's worth disguising the fact that Jimmy and I had a bit of a reputation for a enjoying a drink or two, and a game of cards after. It was good for bonding. Yes, there were a few scrapes and incidents we got ourselves involved in that, looking back, maybe weren't the wisest moves we ever made. Like the night in Oslo in 1974, we were well and truly enjoying ourselves and thought it would be good to give some of the locals a rendition of “Flower of Scotland”. We were staying in student accommodation, there was none of those swanky hotels for us Scots on our travels; as long as we had a bed, a bar and each other, then we were content. As it was, the bar stayed open for us and we crooned them Norwegians with some wonderful Scottish songs. Unbeknown to us, they hated it and complained. One chap seemed keen on trying to fight with us but we weren't having any of that. So I reminded him how my team, Leeds United, had beaten local side Lynn Oslo 16-0 a few years earlier. Not the wisest thing to do; the management were called, and we were given a stiff telling-off and warning. We were both full of apologies, of course. And went out of our way to appease the locals and show ourselves to be great ambassadors. A few of them even spoke up for us. That was nice. I remember telling Jimmy that we should maybe keep off the juice in future get-togethers. He laughed and said, “Nice sentiment Bill, you've been down in England for too long, pal.”
    ‘Well, a year later, the game was up. I had pissed off a lot of Scottish Football Association officials with my outspoken and honest ways, and some of the extra-curricular drinking and celebrations I had with my colleagues. I was told by a few folk, players and managers that there was a groundswell of these people who wanted me out of the Scottish international equation, they saw me as a loose cannon.
    ‘The incident in Copenhagen gave them all the ammunition they desired. I went out with Arthur Graham, Pat McCluskey, Willie Young and Joe Harper. We had a disagreement with a member of staff in the hotel, and a drink got spilled – thrown – whatever, she ended up getting wet. We celebrated and had fun in the bars and clubs we visited. It was all innocent fun, so we thought anyway. But the cops were called and, as usual, the matter was blown out of all proportion.
    ‘There was also a bit of a bedroom trashing to a Scottish Football Association official's room (Jock