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He's on the road again. Charlie Tully Junior is sitting in a Glasgow hotel, having breezed in from Belfast. He brings a tale of songs to sing and stories to cheer.
He is in the city to watch Celtic, to have talks with those who can help him with the museum to Belfast Celtic he runs, and to talk about his dad. Charlie Tully Senior, after all, is an enduring fascination for all who follow the club he once graced.
Tully last played for Celtic in 1959. He died prematurely, aged only 47, in 1971. Yet they still sing of him at Parkhead and the Celtic Song owes much to his intervention. There are myths and legends that surround the Northern Irishman but they cannot match the truth in its almost giddy surreality.
Tully was a player of extraordinary gifts, with a talent of scoring from corner kicks. He was also a character who could natter with Joe DiMaggio and Marilyn Monroe and sing with Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye. Oh, he also had an audience with the Pope.
His place in Celtic history is also assured with an anecdote about the Celtic Song. I admire his son’s tie and he, of course, tells a story.
‘I was given this by Terry Dick, son of the great Glen Daly,’ he says. ‘In 1960, Glen was asked to record the Celtic Song in Pye Studios. He had only one verse and the recording needed two. Who did he know who knew the second verse? Charles Patrick Tully. My dad recited it to Glen down the telephone line as the song was imported from Belfast Celtic.’
The immortal Charlie Tully is pictured front row, second from right, in a Celtic team that included Jock Stein, back row second from right
Charlie Tully in full flight for the Parkhead side during his Celtic heyday
Tully was such a character that Marilyn Monroe and Joe DiMaggio insisted he join them for a chat during the Celtic star's trip to New York
Tully Senior had played for Belfast Celtic before joining the Glasgow branch in 1948 for the substantial fee of £8,000. He stayed until 1959 and his impact was felt far beyond the park. Tully insinuated himself into the soul of the club with his skill, his bravado and a charm that was embraced by the support.
He was a celebrity player before the term was introduced. Tully merchandise was on sale everywhere and his achievements on the pitch were memorised, noted and duly recited down the ages.
The most conspicuous is his goal at Brockville in a Scottish Cup tie on February 21, 1953. He curled a corner kick straight into the net. The referee, believing Tully had taken the kick from outside the corner arc, ordered a retake. Tully put this into the back of the net, too. He later repeated the feat on international duty.
His Celtic career was marked by only one league title, two Scottish Cups and two League Cups. But one of those League Cups was the 7-1 thrashing of Rangers in 1957. He appears in the Willie Maley song recalling Celtic greats, and in the minds of those who cannot possibly have seen him play.
His son recalls: ‘I went with my dad to the European Cup semi-final at Hampden in 1970 against Leeds United. Some of the supporters immediately recognised him and others joined the throng. The police had to ask us to move on because we were unwittingly causing an obstruction. Everyone wanted an autograph.’
In 2012, when Celtic were celebrating their 125th anniversary and preparing to achieve a famous victory against Barcelona in the Champions League, Tully’s grandson, Paul, approached the ground just before kick-off.
He says: ‘We were struggling to get in when my mate shouted: “I have Charlie Tully’s grandson here”. I was a bit embarrassed but, when asked to produce proof, I brought out my driver’s licence which stated: Paul Charles Tully of Belfast. The crowds parted and we walked to our seats.’
The great man has now been dead for more than half a century but the stories roll down the decades unabated by mortality. Myths and legends always survive death.
A dapper Charlie Tully pours himself a drink in his public house in Glasgow
Tully was a man ahead of his time in terms of merchandise, as this Charlie Tully tie shows
The reality of Tully holds firm. ‘He was a character,’ concedes his son. Charlie Junior, born in 1950, opened his eyes for the first time in Belfast. ‘My dad was, of course, at Celtic at the time but my mother was sent back to Belfast so that, if I was any good, I would play for Northern Ireland.’
His success was in business rather than on the field of play. His father was never pushy when it came to his son playing football but he has left a legacy that requires diligence.
‘What is it like to be Charlie Tully’s son? It’s an awesome responsibility. With the name comes all the stories, all the folklore, all the memories and all the history.
‘I couldn’t be as good as him as a player but I will make sure he is remembered. It is difficult emotionally sometimes to have such a dad. He made so many people happy. ‘He gave them hope where there was despair, where there was unemployment, poverty, illness. Just for 90 minutes on a Saturday, he could light the place up.’
Tully bridged the eras at Parkhead. He played with Jock Stein and then with Billy McNeill and Bertie Auld. He was at Lisbon in 1967 when Celtic won the European Cup.
‘He was asked if he would get into that team and he said: “Sure, I would take the corners”. He always had the reply, always had the quip.’
This bonhomie introduced him to the famous. ‘He was carousing with friends in New York and the maitre d’ said two people in the corner had been entertained by him and his friends and wanted to meet him. That’s how he sat down with Joe DiMaggio and Marilyn Monroe,’ says his son.
‘He also sang with Danny Kaye and Bing Crosby on liners making Transatlantic crossings. Dad would burst into song and those stars were keen to join in.’ He also had an audience with Pope Pius XII in the 1950s after Celtic had played Lazio in a friendly in Rome.
Northern Irishman Charlie Christie goes in where it hurts in a game at Dens Park
Crooner Bing Crosby was happy to share a stage and sing a song with Charlie Tully on a Transatlantic voyage
His early death was an obvious shock. But there is some consolation. Cheeky Charlie never wasted a moment. ‘My dad was a happy go lucky lad. He lived the day in the day. To my dad, every day was Christmas Day,’ says his son.
Tully’s first club, Belfast Celtic, are now lost in time but it is his son’s mission to make sure they are always remembered. Belfast Celtic withdrew from the league after awful scenes at a match against Linfield on December 27, 1948. Newspapers reported that Linfield supporters had run on to the park and assaulted Celtic players.
Belfast Celtic, angry at the lack of action by police and the ‘wilfully inadequate’ response from the Irish League, withdrew from the competition.
‘They had done so before and probably felt they would be invited back in,’ says Tully. ‘The rest of the league did not want them back as they were so successful.’ The religious tensions were a formidable barrier, too.
Tully, an insurance broker, came to be a historian on the club. ‘It was where my dad really started but it was a piece of the city’s history too,’ he says. He is now president of the Belfast Celtic Society. They have a museum inside the shopping centre that stands on the once hallowed ground where the club played.
‘It has become a bit of an obsession for me but I want to talk to people about it, keep the museum going and make sure the name of Belfast Celtic is never forgotten.’
His father’s place in history is unassailable. Any sceptics of this assertion need only cock an ear as the songs rise from the Celtic stands. They will be persuaded that immortality is the divine right of such as Charlie Tully.
