Neil Lennon: Man and Bhoy. Neil Lennon

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СКАЧАТЬ I have said, I was aware that joining Celtic might give me problems of this nature. Indeed, I had spoken at length on the subject to my mentor and manager, Martin O’Neill, while we had been discussing my move from Leicester City to Celtic—and who better to talk things over with? He had been thefirst Catholic to captain Northern Ireland and had been proud to play for and lead his national side. We both knew that anyone signing for Celtic, or indeed Rangers, automatically became a hate figure to one faction or the other in a Northern Ireland divided by religion—it sounds like something out of ancient history, and that’s where it all stems from and should have stayed, but it is a modern-day fact.

      Martin’s attitude was that I should come to Celtic and then we would deal with whatever problems arose. I was happy to go along with that advice, but truthfully, neither of us anticipated the escalation of problems or the lack of support I would get when things boiled over as they duly did in the Norway game.

      As we approached half-time with Norway winning 3-0, it was clear that something would have to happen. All of the team had suffered as a result of the abuse—not surprisingly, their concentration was less than total. Opinions differ as to what exactly took place at half-time, but my recollection is that Sammy McIlroy came to me and said that he had spoken to Martin about taking me off at the interval before the game in any case. Given that I was relatively new at Celtic and should not be playing every minute of every game, that sounded plausible.

      I have to say that in retrospect, I don’t think Sammy handled things very well that night. Martin O’Neill has no memory of such a conversation, and perhaps Sammy said this at the time to cover up the deep embarrassment which he and the Irish Football Association’s officials were undoubtedly feeling. I would have preferred him to be up front, to have said ‘we’re going to take you off for your own sake and we’ll deal with this afterwards’, but what was happening was completely new to him and being honest, I think he was overwhelmed by it all. My team-mates were also embarrassed and that was understandable—I don’t know how I would have reacted had it been someone else in the team getting the jeers. Some people later suggested that they should have shown solidarity and refused to come out for the second half, but I would not have wanted that, not least because it would have worsened the situation with the crowd. In addition, they were getting no lead from the manager or the Irish FA to do something of that nature.

      After the match, Sammy tried to play things down and was so blas?in interviews that unfortunately he gave out the wrong message. It was as though he did not understand what lay at the heart of the whole situation. He indicated that everyone got booed at some time or another in their career—a remark that angered my family in particular, as they were the ones who had been forced to live with the appalling graffiti and who would now be the centre of unwanted attention back home in Lurgan.

      I know what Martin O’Neill would have done—he would have addressed that section of the crowd who were abusing me and told them to cease their activities forthwith. And I suspect the majority of the crowd would have backed him, though realistically nothing was going to deter the bigoted boo boys.

      But Martin wasn’t there. Instead, nothing happened at all. Neither Sammy nor anyone from the Irish FA confronted the issue at the time, and there were no warnings to the crowd that I heard, though to be fair the abuse was roundly condemned afterwards. So the minority got their wicked way. The football pitch can be a very lonely place, and I never felt so isolated in a match as I did on that night against Norway.

      My substitution led to an even more bizarre event. I got dressed as quickly as possible and then did an interview outside the dressing room in which I gave my response to what had happened to the BBC.

      This is what I told them: ‘A lot of people got behind me tonight and I was touched by that. There are minorities in all walks of life who make trouble for everyone else. But there are a lot more good people than bad in this country. I hope to be back but first I will talk things over with my club and family and take it from there.’ That really was the situation—I didn’t want to make a decision immediately.

      The Royal Ulster Constabulary then stepped in. Some of the officers were worried about my safety, and I couldn’t very well go and sit in the dugout or the stand, could I? They insisted that I miss the rest of the game and go with them in an unmarked car. That’s how I found myself making a swift exit from Windsor Park and being whisked through the back streets of East Belfast in the back of a fairly beaten-up car that no one could have mistaken for a police vehicle. Here I was, minutes after playing for my country, getting a police escort through its largest city—it was beyond satire and in the realms of madness. I never did get to see what happened in the second half, though things must have improved as we only conceded one more goal and lost 4-0.

      The police took me back to the hotel to fetch my stuff and I returned quickly to Glasgow where the following morning I went to Parkhead, home of Celtic, and discussed what had happened with Martin O’Neill. Some people in the media had already speculated that I might retire from international football, and for once they were close to the mark. I told Martin that I didn’t know what to do and really wasn’t sure that I should go back and play for Northern Ireland, and certainly not at Windsor Park. He had been as shocked as anyone and could see I was still upset, but his advice was that I should give it another go as I might regret it in the long term, and perhaps miss out on the chance to play in major finals such as the European Championships.

      The massive press speculation that I would quit international football continued for days and I decided to speak out. I said truthfully that I was considering standing down from the Northern Ireland squad but needed more time to think things through.

      Meanwhile a huge furore had broken out over what had happened to me. The Irish FA’s community relations officer Michael Boyd said he would be calling for action: ‘The time has come for the IFA to send out a strong message that this sort of behaviour cannot be tolerated. Banning these people is what the majority of decent supporters want.’

      He was promptly contradicted by a different IFA spokesman who was quoted as saying: ‘Obviously we are very disappointed by the reaction of a section of the crowd. But there is very little we can do about it.

      ’It is very difficult to counter a small element. We don’t even know who they are. It might have been Rangers supporters coming over for the match, because we’d read press reports before this match that Rangers supporters were planning to attend to give Neil Lennon a hard time.’

      Talk about living in cloud cuckoo land…so hundreds of Rangers fans travelled from Scotland just to boo me? I’m not exactly the Rangers supporters’ favourite person but I don’t think hundreds of people would go that far just to jeer me.

      There were all sorts of mixed messages coming from the Irish FA. Its president Jim Boyce condemned the abuse but said that the majority of the crowd were behind me. He told reporters: ‘I have no time for bigotry in any walk of life, let alone football. I have no time for sectarianism and I totally oppose it, as I’ve always done.

      ’You had a certain section of people with moronic brains who did boo. But the vast majority of people in the ground were supporting Neil Lennon and it’s important not to forget that.’

      The press and politicians also weighed in, and I was touched by the many ordinary decent folk who did try to encourage me to play on. But this was not really helping me one bit. I lay awake at night wondering what to do. I spoke to friends and most importantly, to my family, and with their backing I eventually decided that I would carry on playing.

      Sammy McIlroy was grateful for my decision and assured me I was very much an important part of his plans. My next game for Northern Ireland was against the Czech Republic. I was nervous beforehand and despite assurances from the Irish FA, who had appealed for decent fans to support me, I was worried about the ‘welcome’ СКАЧАТЬ