John Lambie RIP

IN MY lengthy career at the quotes face I have met many of the greats of management – in a professional capacity. Stein, Souness, Turnbull, McLean, Ferguson and more. Some were impressive, a couple on that list above qualify for the use of the C word, but, my favourites were the “characters” - Jock Wallace, Ally MacLeod, Jim Leishman, and, of course, John Lambie, who died this morning.

John Lambie (1941 - 2018)

That BBC documentary segment, of John letting rip at his Partick Thistle players during a half-time break at Firhill is television gold. My late father, who was an expert, was once complimented for his use of “colliery language” by NCB Chairman Lord Robens, was impressed at Lambie's innovative use of the Anglo-Saxon copulative verb as both verb, adjective and noun during the piece. Well, his faither was a miner, who had the good sense to send the teenaged Lambie down Polkemet Colliery, to see for himself the conditions under which he and their neighbours in Whitburn earned their daily bread. It worked, and young John never did have to go doon the pit.

As a player, he was a journeyman, over some 400 games for Falkirk, whom he joined as an 18-year-old from Whitburn Juniors, and St Johnstone, before he turned to his true calling, as a coach, initially with St Johnstone – where he had been one of the stalwarts of the great Willie Ormond-managed team which finished third in the old First Division, reached a League Cup final and took the name St Johnstone into Europe.

The next stop for the embryo coach was Easter Road, under Eddie Turnbull, another coach and manager fluent in bad language and invective. I would not have liked to have been a player who stepped out of line with those two around. While at Easter Road, Lambie claimed it was he, rather than Tony Higgins, who has claimed ownership of the story, who was sent to drag George Best out of his room at the North British Hotel, only to find George in bed with one of his Miss Worlds and a bottle of vintage champagne. If only it went wrong for more of us that way.

From Hibs, he went to Hamilton, as assistant to Bertie Auld, eventually succeeding the Lisbon Lion as manager at Hamilton Accies in January, 1984. Highlight of his nearly five years at Douglas Park was surely that unforgettable Scottish Cup win over Rangers at Ibrox. Adrian Sprott got the goal, but goalkeeper Dave McKellar was the real hero as he defied the Ibrox millionaires.

 Adrian Sprott got the goal, but Dave McKellar was the hero of Hamilton's Ibrox win

In November, 1988, he went to Partick Thistle for the first time, but, after only 11 months, he was back at Accies. Not for long, however, five months later, he was back at Firhill for a further five years.

First club Falkirk then came calling and he returned for an unhappy seventh month spell at Brockville, a chastening spell which caused him to turn his back on football for three full years, during which he concentrated on his true sporting love, racing pigeons – he had 80 at one point, and greyhounds – he once owned 14.

Lambie said during one interview: “I understand doos better than I do footballers, but, not as well as I do grehounds.” He also said looking after his doos and taking his dugs racing relaxed him.

In early 1999, with Thistle seemingly sliding towards the bottom division in Scotland, and, some feared, possible liquidation, he was persuaded back to Firhill for a third and final spell. The old magic still worked, as he stopped the slide, then guided the Jags back to the top flight, and kept them there.

There was no secret to what Lambie did. It was old-fashioned management, he was as likely to put an arm round a player as give him a “hair dryer” blast – in which art, many would have backed him against Ferguson. He particularly succeeded in getting the best out of allegedly “difficult” players such as Chic Charnley.

 Perhaps the son he never had; Lambie with Chic Charnely

In 2003, however, he handed-in his manager's coat and retired. Thistle put him on the board, and made him honorary vice-president. The Thistle fans voted him into their Hall of Fame, as did the Falkirk fans.

If the press has its way, he will get into the Scottish Football HoF as well. You see, in this game, getting a useable quote out of some managers is a bit like pulling teeth, without anaesthetic. Not with Lambie. Press conferences, particularly in his office at Firhill, were always joyous affairs; we never knew when it was coming, but, we knew at some point, he would deliver the quote we needed.

 Colin McGlashan - or is it Pele? in action for Partick Thistle

Some of the quotes were gold dust. We all the story of how, when the Thistle physio told him Colin McGlashan had concussion and didn't know who he was, Lambie replied: “Slap up roon the face wi a fucking wet sponge, tell him he's fucking Pele and send him back oot there.” A couple of other swear words might have been left out of that one, but, it remains a classic.

I remember, after one thoroughly miserable, gale-lashed match at Rugby Park, he bounced into the press room to tell the assembled hack pack: “Ah widnae hae sent ma doos oot in that the day.”

After he retired, he stayed retired, apart from a two-game cameo as Thistle caretaker boss, in 2004. We missed him, his big cigars and the fog of cigar smoke at the press conferences. We missed the forthright opinions, and the knowledge.

He was a true character. He fell-out with wife Mamie, but, managed to remain friends, in one of his last interviews, he told The Scotsman's Aidan Smith how, he still ran Mamie to and from her line dancing.

As illness took its toll, the doos went, as did the greyhounds, and, this morning, he was called to the great dug-out in the sky. We will miss him, and remember him fondly, but, not as much as Mamie, his three daughters and his grand-children will.

Today, we lost a giant, and a giant character.