Martin O’Neill on 2003 Uefa Cup Final Celtic supporters share their Seville stories | OneFootball

“Seville was a fantastic occasion but a big, big disappointment,” Martin O’Neill

Martin O’Neill  spoke about Seville 19 years ago today – when his Celtic side lost out in extra-time to Jose Mourinho’s Porto, a team that used every sleekit trick in the book and then went on to win the Champions League the next season.

Mourinho of course always says that despite everything he went on to achieve in the game, beating Celtic in the 2003 UEFA Cup Final was his greatest achievement and the hardest game he’d ever been involved in.

Most Celtic fans haven’t been able to watch that game back, myself included. As Martin O’Neill reckons that Henrik Larsson was magnificent in Seville and it was justice of a sort that he went on to turn around a Champions League final against Arsenal a few years later after coming off the bench for Barcelona in the final in Paris.

Celtic fans in Seville

“Seville was a fantastic occasion but a big, big disappointment. It still rankles, even now all these years on. And I don’t think I’ll ever feel any differently about it,” the former Celtic manager told Scottish Sun. “I’ve talked to some of the ex-players about it and they feel exactly the same. It wasn’t so much that we lost to Porto, who went on to win the Champions League the next year. That wasn’t the issue.

“It was just the manner of the defeat. Henrik Larsson was simply sensational on the night and I thought we could and should have won it. But it wasn’t to be. So when I think back on it I think about the occasion and 75,000 Celtic supporters descending upon Seville.

“They got there by hook or by crook and it was wonderful. Celtic fans always find a way. But then that quickly turns to a feeling of real disappointment. A defeat like that, in a final, is pretty difficult to get over. We did so much work to get there and beat some great sides on the way.

“Blackburn Rovers were no back number at that time. I remember going to see them play Arsenal at Highbury a week or two before we played them and they were fifth or sixth in the Premier League. It became a big thing in the press, Scotland against England. People down there were saying, ‘If Blackburn Rovers can take care of the best in Scotland then where does that leave Scottish football?’

“Strangely enough, that made us more determined. We obviously wanted to do well for our own football club, but we all wanted Scottish football to be recognised and considered pretty decent.

“From memory, we didn’t play well in the first game at Celtic Park, but went down to Ewood Park and turned it on. I remember we filled the stand behind one of the goals. What a big, big mistake that was by Blackburn.

“I swear, from the minute I went out for the warm-up and saw how many supporters we had, I just knew we’d win. We couldn’t lose that night.

“After that we played Liverpool, which was just extraordinary. What a night at Anfield. That was when I thought we had a right good chance of reaching the final. Getting there was fantastic as it was the club’s first final since 1970, obviously after the wonderful team of 1967.

“So there is a lot to be proud of when I think back to the final against Jose Mourinho’s Porto.But those are the things which probably make the disappointment of Seville all the more gnawing.”

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That extra special Celtic gentleman, Tommy Burns

My father had been to Lisbon and there was no way I was going to miss Seville even though I didn’t have a ticket, so last minute we made enquiries….

My two mates and I travelled over landing at Gibraltar and staying in Barbate which was about 200 miles from seville. We had no tickets and I read on the way over that the team were staying at the Hotel Jerez, funniky enough in Jerez so the day before the final we went up…. Butch, Joker and I.

Beautiful Jerez in sunshine and really not a Celtic top to see as we arrived in the centre….. a few Scottish accents in the cafe bars as we passed on our way to the hotel to see the set up…. just wasting a day before the final….. that was to change!

Firstly walking down the road I met Bobby Lennox walking in the sun, bunnet on his head and stopped for a photo and chat. The guys who I was with are 15 odd years older than me and had been pals with my father and of the era, Lennox was legendary.

We carried on amd found the Hotel Jerez where security was tight outside so we stood at a distance, 3 Celtic clad men at the gates. Late lunch in the cafe opposite and a beer outside under the umbrellas…

This is where things become magical for me and the best Celtic day of my life.

Butch says to me….. here’s Tommy Burns…I say “aye right” and boom…. hand on my shoulder “awright boys?”…. the great man himself! He was with his son and he sat with us, sharing large prawns and dip, we had 4 or 5 jugs of beer whilst Tommy had coke and we spoke football and his management days, Di Canio stories, his son who played for St Mungos and had 2 hours of brilliant fun that went in a beat. We were joined by Jack McGinn amd his family for a sandwich and eventually everyone was leaving.

Tommy asked if we had tickets and when we said we didn’t. He told us that he was meeting Andy Walker and Paul McStay off the flight later and he would come back to the cafe around 9.30pm to see us and if he had any tickets….. we told him that it was a great geature but he really didnt have to. But he insisted. Off he went over towards the hotel.

We were buzzing. I went to the bar to pay our suzable bill and the Spanish barman then pointed to my hair and said in broken English “the man like you, pay for the bill.”

Tommy. What a guy. A total.privilege to have spent the time with him, a true legend.

So it gets better…I then having a few beers in me and Dutch courage said to the my 2 old partners ” ok follow me!”……

I walks over toward the front steps of the Hotel Jerez and was there was a bit of commotion with papparazi and tv cameras looking no doubt for a glimpse of celeb…. like a parting of the waves I walked up to an official who asked if I was with the Celtic party and straight faced I said yes and walked straight past with Butch and Joke….. unbelievable!

Inside the cool marble reception opened up into a large open lounge and bar area which was then outside to a pool area. It was like a matchday in there.

Butch is stiffling his excitement as I say just walk to the bar so we can re-assess. I turn round and the Lisbon Lions except Lennox and Johnstone are right in front of me!!!

Butch who has a talent for talking comes into his own and asks John Fallon about coming from Fauldhouse and he then says that I have a laddie from there (pointing to me) and he knows my nana and the McGarty family. Bertie Auld asks us to sit with them….I ask to buy them all a drink as a tribute to my father to which most accept.

Next thing they are discussing Stein amd the halcylon days and Bertie shouts over to Martin O’Neill who is coming in from outside…. “Boss! I’ve a laddie to meet you!”

Over he comes and we get a picture and I am on Celtic cloud 9!

I go to the bar and an attractive lady sitting up, having seen the shenanigans with the Lions and the boss, says “Hi I’m Cat from Radio Clyde,”

She asked if I had seen Billy Connolly and i said I had just had a pint with him over the road with Tommy Burns.

I told her other cr*p and she was impressed….. buy US a round and asking if she could be introduced when he turned up…. “aye no problem doll….”

We had knocked everything out the park…. how could it get better?

I suggested that maybe now we should go as it was a matter of time before we stood out like 3 gatecrashers in a 5 star hotel on the eve of a European Final so we started to make out way to the exit only to be stopped by security as the team bus was arring back from training!

Larsson, Sutton, Hartson who was injured amd gutted not to play, photos with Lennon, Balde Maloney…just magic.

We left and took residence back in the cafe opposite where it was time to reflect on a magical day.

9.30pm. Tommy turns up all dapper and says he didn’t have tickets but was going for dinner with the board and would be back around 1am if he had any….

We thanked him for everything and for trying, for his company, for paying the bill but we had a 3.5 hour trip south to our digs and off he went into to the night.

What a day. We went back and then travelled the 5 hours back up the following day to Seville and the rest is history. We didn’t get in and watched the Final in the fans park.

I heard a great story about a ingenious fan going up to the press boss and saying he was Roger Baillie from the Sunday Post and they gave him his press envelope and showed him to his seat where he would watch the game the followng day and left him. He looked in tbe envelope and tbere a was a match ticket. Poor Baillie when he turned up!

That’s my memories from that brilliant day before the final.

Tom Dunnigan (Bathgate)

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A Big Bevvy in Seville with Paddy, The Bhoy from Reading

My Edinburgh mate, Martin, and I were lucky enough to have secured a hotel room in Seville (albeit of the ‘Pension’ variety) and flew out the Saturday before but had to change in Barcelona. In the airport, there was a stockily-built guy in front of us stripped off to the waist, covered in Celtic tattoos and singing Rebels songs at the top of his voice.

I said to Martin “Stay clear of this guy, he looks a bit of a bammer”. However, Paddy as he called himself, made his way over to us in the airport bar and said in his Reading accent “alright Bhoys, have you got a hotel in Seville?” I stupidly replied that we had, to which he replied “Right lads, I’m staying with you!!”

Martin and I looked at each other and rather hesitantly agreed. So the first day and evening were spent drinking around the old town. As it turned out Paddy was fine and we’re still great friends years later. (Made a few lifetime friends that week.) He did rather like a drink or two though! Anyway, we headed off to our hotel around midnight with Paddy in a camp bed in between mine and Martin’s single beds.

Very early the next morning I heard movement next to me and it was Paddy getting dressed. I asked “Paddy what the hell are you doing?”, to which he replied “I’m going for a drink Sean. What about you?” I thought for a moment and replied “Aye, ok!” It was 6am!

So there was Paddy and I doing a pub crawl around Seville in bars packed with early morning workers drinking coffee and breakfast snacks and Paddy and I on the beers and voddies! I lasted till around midday when the bold Paddy half-carried me back to our hotel. I crashed onto my bed, out like a light. By this time Martin was just getting up. Paddy said to Martin “I’m going back out drinking. You coming Martin?” and the pair of them headed out the door and into the Andalusian sun.

The next thing I remember was the door crashing open around 6pm as Paddy carried a very drunken Martin through the door. I had recovered a bit by then, after 6 hours sleep, so Paddy asked “how you feeling now Sean, you coming back out for a drink?”. So off I went again with Paddy for my second bender of the day and Paddy’s third!

We repeated this massive feat of bevvyism the second day, but couldn’t keep up with the Reading Bhoy thereafter. The rest is history of course but we shall never forget meeting Paddy in Barcelona. Paddy is still going strong!

Hail Hail

Sean Cahill

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Encountering the Spanish secret police watching Celtic in Seville

Jon’s experience from Seville, dealing with the Spanish secret police and a 12 hour bus journey….

I made my way to Seville with 2 mates (John & Bo), we went under the guise of a weeks holiday in lloret de Mar. After a few days in lloret de Mar, we embarked on a horrendous 12 hour bus journey to Seville, but upon arriving in Seville, it was worth the journey, a sea of green and white, songs, dance, beer, tapas, and lots of good people.

Estadio Olimpico 21 Mayo 2003

I had managed to source a ticket through my brother, he had reached a deal with a guy in his work that for every ticket he got for us, we’d give him a hundred quid, the guy sat up for 24 hours and managed to get six tickets from the UEFA website, so my two brothers and I got three, and the other three went to my brothers mates.

The only minor problem was the three pairs of tickets were dotted around different parts of the stadium.

We drank, sang and scoured Seville for somewhere to stay and finally got a small room in a locals house, along with about 10 others all crammed into this one small room, a bit like jigsaw with people!

After savouring the city, well when I say the city, I mean the city’s bars …..all day, we arrived at the stadium, and split into three groups of two to take up our seats. I went with my younger brother, he had a pair of huge comical sunglasses on, i had a bandana and was being asked all day if I was Bono, we both had Celtic scarfs, tops etc and we had drank a bucketload too.

We took our seats and were singing and shouting waiting for the game to start, I noticed that there were two guys standing watching us from about 20 feet away, both wearing long overcoat type jackets and dark sunglasses, I thought it was odd as it was about 80 degrees, but then the team came out and my concentration swiftly moved on.

Five minutes into the game, the two odd looking guys walked over to us. One of them leaned over and flashed his secret police badge and asked us to follow them.

Slightly puzzled, we did, they took us underneath the stadium and started interrogating us, asking lots of questions, name, address, how we travelled, who else was with us etc etc.

Bearing in mind we were very drunk, when they asked for my address, I gave them my old address. However, when prompted by my brother I corrected myself (probably not a good thing when being questioned by secret police) but after 15 minutes or so they let us go back to our seats, but followed us and stood 20 feet away watching us for the entire game.

We had no idea what it was all about.

At half time, my older brother called to say “your never gona believe what just happened to us”, but we did. It was the exact same thing as had happened to us. The final two guys with tickets had the exact same experience.

None of us could understand what was going on.

Needless to say after the game, we were drinking at a bar and trying to understand what had happened, my brother piped up, “I wonder if it was because Abdul bought the tickets for us?”

Upon further questioning, it became apparent that Abdul who we subcontracted to buy our tickets, which just so happened to be randomly spread throughout the stadium, had not long moved to the UK………. FROM IRAQ, principally to escape the UK invasion of Iraq which had only started a few months prior.

So I guess they had us down as suicide bombers, with tickets all around the stadium for maximum effect.

Hats off to the six secret police for not phoning in sick!!!

And as I shouted at Mourinho and his team of Portuguese diving, play acting, cheating rats after the game….. I’ll never again in my life buy ‘port’ …… or ‘ugals’

Thanks to Jon for his Seville memories. Whilst the result is still a sickener, the sight of 80,000 Celtic supporters invading Spain for the final is one that will last a lifetime for supporters.

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‘We got to the box, perfect view, limitless tapas and beer’ thanks to a Rangers fan

The Celtic Star – Celtic fan memories of the pilgrimage of 80,000 supporters to the South of Spain back in 2003. Next we have Mark’s VIP experience courtesy of his Rangers supporting pal, delaying his flight from taking off and severe chaffing.

Like most people I arrived in Seville on a charter flight from Glasgow with my pal, Shieldsy, and a few other folk. In our group Shieldsy and I were the only two without tickets. One of my other pals was living in Spain (still is). I told him we were going to the game. He said we should meet up in Seville.

I thought this was strange as we know him as John ‘the Rangers fan’. He said he had a meeting that week in Seville. So the day got going and was unforgettable in the bars and squares of Seville. I had arranged to meet John around 3pm at his hotel.

When I got there, with Shields, John was in the hotel bar with a group of Spanish business folks, beaming from side to side. As I approached him he greeted me with words I’ll never forget “do you fancy going to the game?”……

John then tells me his company has a box and both myself and shields can get in. Jackpot!

We got to the box, perfect view, limitless tapas and beer. I quickly got ahead of myself with the catering and went outside the box for some air. Outside I bumped in to Alan Hansen and Hazel Irvine as the box next door was being used as the BBC studios.

I got both to sign my tap. Clearly the heat was getting to me. After the game we missed our bus to the airport. We finally managed to hitch a lift, expecting to have missed our flights. On arrival at the airport we soon realised that all flights were delayed.

So we made ourselves comfortable on the concourse floor and fell fast asleep. One of the boys shook us all awake as he heard our names being called out on the tannoy. The flight was leaving. They must have been calling us for a while. So we started legging it through the airport. That wasn’t easy as a few of us had severe chaffing with the heat and kilt combination.

We expected a complete roasting when we got on board the flight as folk at that point were just desperate to get home. I think it was about 4am at that point. So we agreed to just smile and get to our seats quickly, no matter what the reception was.

Luckily they held the flight long enough for us by the time we got on board the whole full flight was sound asleep. Another good result from that day.

Sent to The Celtic Star by Mark.

We want to hear your Celtic Stories – please email them over to editor@thecelticstar.co.uk and we’ll publish them on the site for other Celts to enjoy. We’ll publish more Seville stories later on today…

OUT NOW! WILLIE FERNIE – PUTTING ON THE STYLE BY CELTIC HISTORIAN DAVID POTTER

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