James Traynor pays tribute to the Jungle and the football it used to

enjoy.

LET no-one say ever again that today's game is better than the

football played two and three decades ago. That simply isn't true.

A return to the Jungle at Celtic Park, where passions and adrenalin

course powerfully, might have given this disillusioned soul a more

refreshing slant on the game, but it didn't. The problem was that, even

allowing for the nostalgia which swept over Parkhead on Saturday, the

team were playing their last match of a miserable season and they were

not very good.

In fact, the only time there was genuine excitement was when the

Lisbon Lions emerged from the tunnel during half-time in Celtic's 2-0

win over Dundee and, led by Billy McNeill, just as they had been all

those years ago, they strode straight to the Jungle.

It might have been misty-eyed longing for a return to those better

days of the 60s into the mid-70s but McNeill and his team, Auld,

Johnstone, Murdoch, Simpson, Craig, Lennox et al, looked as though they

appreciated the Jungle inhabitants more than the current group of

players.

Also, after a first half which had been a crushing bore, the Lions

could have sucked in their thickening middles and played out the second

period. They couldn't have been much worse, although goals from Paul

McStay and Frank McAvennie helped to put a better complexion on the

afternoon. The fans left the Jungle for the last time singing, although

the majority remained disappointed that the terracing will be

transformed into an all-seated area.

The feeling and enthusiasm for the team will be diluted if the fans

have to sit, seems to be the argument, but the directors feel they have

no choice but to seat the Jungle, even though the club have been granted

outline planning permission for their new stadium complex in Cambuslang.

If that dream is realised it will be several years down the line and in

the meantime Celtic Park will have to be made safer.

It is impossible to argue against safety but a chapter on the Scottish

game's history closed on Saturday evening when the last fan left that

compact area across from the main stand. When empty and silent, the

Jungle is insignificant, just a few concrete steps, but when more than

8000 people squeeze in, it takes on life. It becomes vibrant, exciting,

and intimidating.

However, the great sadness about this terracing, in front of which

have been played out some of the most memorable European ties, is that,

in recent years, the people who stand there have become more

unwelcoming. While the club will always have Irish connections, some of

the songs, which glorify hatred and sectarianism, leave the more

balanced Celtic supporters disgusted and depressed.

There is a venom now, sometimes also the air is heavy with a

malevolence which was not always there. Unfortunately, religious bigotry

has been, and probably always will be, present during Old Firm matches,

with Rangers' fans just as bad, but there was a time when it was

possible to go to Celtic Park and rejoice in nothing more than good,

often great, football. I know this, because I was there.

I watched, often from the Jungle slopes, McNeill and his side knock

the ball around with swift, confident strokes on their way to numerous

trophies. They were the best, just as Rangers are now.

It may be too difficult for some of the people who go to both these

grounds to comprehend but it is possible to be a supporter of football

rather than any particular club. There are people prepared to travel to

see whichever side are willing to play with more panache and style and

vision than the others. These people are football fans as opposed to

club fans, but the behaviour of those who go to places like Celtic Park

and Ibrox for other reasons makes it increasingly difficult for the

person committed only to the game to show up.

Still, it was necessary to return to the Jungle for the first time in

almost 20 years. Too many good matches, a head full of memories, had to

be relived before the seats are laid down and, the standard of play

apart, it wasn't a bad day out, although the club are due little credit.

Frankly, Celtic's directors have no sense of occasion. The closure of

one of the most famous terracings in football should have been marked by

more than a shambling fancy-dress contest -- which should, incidentally,

have been won by the Jungle parrot, which leapt on to the track as the

judging was taking place.

The Jungle people gave everyone else the bird, demanding the parrot be

taken into consideration, but he was shooed back into the Jungle.

Naturally, he was sick as he climbed on to his terracing perch.

There were a couple of gaudy clowns in the parade and someone wondered

aloud why the directors had been allowed to enter. Another suggested the

entire Celtic team should have won the fancy-dress prize for

masquerading as footballers.

Just for a moment it was like old times when humour reigned in the

Jungle.