How Celtic Fans Can Pay Tribute to John Thomson 95 Years On

Today marks a most poignant anniversary in the history of Celtic Football Club.

If you know your history, and you do, it's 95 years to the day since the sad passing of Celtic goalkeeper John Thomson.

'The Prince of Goalkeepers' was just 22 years old when he paid the ultimate sacrifice as Celtic played Rangers at Ibrox on September 5, 1931.

During the match, Thomson came out to challenge for a loose ball and collided with Rangers forward Sam English.

It was a tragic accident, not an act of deliberate violence, as English's boot thudded into Thomson's head.

Thomson suffered catastrophic injuries and was taken to the Victoria Infirmary in Glasgow. He died later that evening.

The tragedy devastated Celtic and shook Scottish football to the core. The consequences were felt far beyond the football pitch.

English himself was deeply affected by what had happened, but was later cleared of responsibility for the accident.

Thomson was born in Kirkcaldy in 1909 and grew up in the Fife mining community of Cardenden. He signed for Celtic as a teenager in 1926 after being spotted by scout Steve Callaghan. His rise was extraordinary.

By the following season, he had established himself as Celtic's goalkeeper, and before his life was cut tragically short, he had made 188 appearances for the club and won two Scottish Cup medals. He also earned four Scotland caps. Thomson stood on the verge of football greatness and possessed an extraordinary gift. Contemporary descriptions spoke of his remarkable ability, his grace, his courage and his composure.

Legendary Celtic manager Willie Maley, who had seen countless Celtic players come and go, regarded Thomson as one of the finest goalkeepers the club had ever produced.

Celtic still describes Thomson as having a "special place" in the hearts of its supporters nearly a century after his tragic death.

Perhaps the most remarkable part of John Thomson's Celtic story is what happened afterwards.

The people of Scotland did not simply forget him. Thousands travelled to Cardenden for his funeral. Celtic supporters came from Glasgow, with many walking extraordinary distances to pay their respects.

Celtic's official history records that around 40,000 people attended the funeral, while later commemorations have recreated the pilgrimage made by supporters from Glasgow to Fife.

That tells us something about what John Thomson meant.

He wasn't merely a name on an old team sheet. He was loved. Five years short of a century later, he still is.

A minute on the clock at a football match can become special and mean so much more.

At Celtic Park, the 67th minute carries the weight of history. The mobile phone light display has now become synonymous with the fans belting out the song 'In the Heat of Lisbon', which instantly transports the green and white hordes to the greatest day in the club's history, as they commemorate Jock Stein's Lisbon Lions, who famously conquered Europe in 1967.

Willie Maley's name, too, is woven deeply into the fabric of Celtic, representing the club's earliest triumphs and the extraordinary foundations upon which so much of its history was built.

However, there is another number that should perhaps have its own meaning at Paradise.

That number is 31.

It is not because Celtic won a famous trophy in 1931. It is not because a legendary goal was scored in the 31st minute. It is because 1931 was the year Celtic lost one of its greatest-ever servants in the most tragic circumstances imaginable.

Surely the time has come for Celtic supporters to give John Thomson a minute of his own.

How good would it be if, in the 31st minute of every home game, thousands of supporters sang a chorus and verse of the John Thomson song?

Not as a spectacle. Not as a gimmick. Not as a replacement for the traditions that already exist, but as an addition to them.

It would be a beautiful, yet simple and powerful act of remembrance for a young goalkeeper whose life was given to Celtic and whose name has survived for almost a century.

That is why the idea of the 31st minute deserves consideration and John Thomson merits this kind of recognition.

Celtic supporters are rightly proud of their history. They sing about the Lisbon Lions because they achieved something extraordinary. We remember Jock Stein because he transformed Celtic into European champions. We remember Willie Maley because he helped build the club's early identity and established a winning tradition that became part of Celtic's DNA.

Celtic will continue to do all of that, but history isn't only about trophies and success.

Sometimes it is about sacrifice. Sometimes it is about sadness. Deep, emotional and profound sadness.

John Thomson didn't get the opportunity to grow old. He didn't get to see Celtic lift trophies that would come decades later. He didn't get to experience the European glory of 1967. He didn't get to see generations of great Celtic players follow him through the doors of Parkhead.

He didn't even get the chance to fulfil the potential that so many people believed he possessed.

John Thomson's Celtic story and history simply stopped. Yet his name didn't.

That is the most extraordinary thing.

To this day, Celtic supporters still make pilgrimages to his grave. There have been numerous Celtic first-team visits to his final place of rest. His memory continues to be commemorated by supporters and organisations connected with the club. Celtic's own website has even called him one of the most important figures in the club's history.

So why not make his memory part and parcel of the fabric of every Celtic home match?

We are the Celtic family, after all, are we not?

Why the 31st minute?

It would give an entire generation of Celtic supporters a direct connection to someone they could never possibly have seen play.

The vast majority of people walking through the turnstiles at Celtic Park today will never have seen John Thomson play or even know someone who did.

His era is almost a century away. The sepia-tinged photographs are black and white. Stories have been passed down from grandparents to parents and from parents to children. That distance can make history feel abstract.

The John Thomson song changes all of that.

Imagine a child attending their first Celtic game. They will certainly know about the Lisbon Lions. They might even know about Jock Stein, Jimmy Johnstone, Billy McNeill or Henrik Larsson.

They might also know the songs that make the gladiatorial theatre that is Celtic Park shake.

Then, in the 31st minute, the entire stadium begins to sing for John Thomson.

That child may ask: Who was he?

Someone can explain thus:

John Thomson was a young goalkeeper from Fife.

John Thomson joined Celtic as a teenager.

John Thomson became one of Scotland's finest goalkeepers.

John Thomson died playing for Celtic.

Almost a century later, the Celtic supporters still refuse to let his name disappear.

That is how history survives. Not simply in books. In songs. In stories. In rituals. In the collective memory of a football club.

The John Thomson song already exists.

The heartfelt words tell the story of the young goalkeeper who came from Fife to play for Glasgow Celtic, of the fateful match against Rangers, of the grief that followed and of the supporters who remembered him.

It is therefore not necessary to invent something new. The song is already there. The voice is already there. The history is already there.

All that is missing is that Celtic Park moment. The 31st minute could become that moment where John Thomson lives again in the hearts and minds of the Celtic faithful.

There would be something beautifully appropriate about thousands of Celtic supporters singing together for a goalkeeper.

The man whose job was to stand between Celtic and danger would, in essence, be remembered by the supporters who congregate behind the goal.

It would also say something important about what supporting Celtic actually means.

They say football is all about winning. Of course it is. Celtic supporters want trophies, victories, European nights and unforgettable goals.

Football clubs are also communities of memory. They carry the people who came before us.

We inherit their songs. We inherit their stories. We inherit their heroes.

Occasionally, we inherit their grief. John Thomson belongs to that inheritance.

He complements the homages to Willie Maley, Jock Stein and the Lisbon Lions.

Celtic's history is big enough to hold all of them.

It is about cherishing and holding dear the memory of a 22-year-old goalkeeper whose life ended while wearing the Hoops.

That is not living in the past. It is about understanding where you came from.

Celtic have always been more than the eleven players on the pitch. The club is the people in the stands, the generations who passed through the turnstiles, the families who handed down scarves and songs, the men and women whose stories became part of the great Celtic story.

John Thomson's story belongs there. It belongs at Celtic Park.

What better way to ensure that than to give him a place in the very soundtrack of Celtic Park?

The whole of Paradise could rise in unison to sing for a young man who played for Celtic nearly a century ago.

Not because we have forgotten the legends who came after him, but because we haven't forgotten the ones who came before them.

John Thomson paid the ultimate sacrifice in the service of Celtic. He gave everything while doing the job he loved, and although his life was heartbreakingly short, his memory has endured.

The Celtic support has spent generations proving that his story matters.

Now we have the opportunity to make that remembrance part of every home game. Let the 31st minute belong to John Thomson. Let the young supporters learn his name. Let the old supporters pass his story on. Let the song rise from the stands. Let Celtic Park remind the world that heroes don't have to score the winning goal, lift the European Cup or manage the club to become immortal.

Sometimes, all they have to do is give everything they have to the Hoops.

The legend that is Tommy Burns famously said: "When you represent Celtic, you are playing for a community and a cause."

John Thomson did exactly that. He paid the ultimate sacrifice representing the Celtic cause.

"Farewell my darling Johnny,

Prince of players we must part,

No more we’ll stand and cheer you,

On the slopes of Celtic Park.

"So come all you Glasgow Celtic,

Stand up and play the game,

For between your posts there stands a ghost,

Johnny Thomson is his name."

Some 95 years on, the words carved into John Thomson's tombstone should still resonate with every member of the Celtic Family.

“They never die who live in the hearts they leave behind.”