My defining Celtic moment – the Scottish Cup final of 1988

The Celtic Star

·14 Mei 2025

My defining Celtic moment – the Scottish Cup final of 1988

Celtic Tour Guide Robert Galbraith on his debut as a Celtic Star writer, talks us through the build-up his own defining moment as a Celtic supporter, the centenary Scottish Cup Final win over Dundee United on 14 May 1988…

This weekend saw the ties for the Third Round of the Scottish Cup taking place across the country, as the famous old competition marks its 150th anniversary. This is the stage when the teams from the Championship and League One – including a host of previous winners – join the fray, all hoping to progress to the Fourth Round and the possibility of a plum tie against a Premiership giant and the chance to make some history.

And in the Scottish Cup dreams can come true and they have this evening for the Highland League’s Hoops Buckie Thistle who have been draw away to holders Celtic in the Fourth Round.

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Holders Celtic have had an incredible relationship with the Scottish Cup over the years, and that goes all the way back, the Bould Bhoys reaching the final in our first-ever season in 1888/89 – losing 2-1 to Third Lanark – before securing it as our first major trophy in 1892 with a comprehensive 5-1 victory over the Kings, or should I say Queens, of the Scottish Cup in that era, Queens Park.

My defining Celtic moment – the Scottish Cup final of 1988…

Reaching the Scottish Cup final during our Centenary season of 1987/88 was fantastic, and I had a feeling that something very special was about to happen, something to remember for years to come and to share with future generations.

As a 15-year-old kid, I was already learning everything I could about Celtic and the history of this great football club. I was fully immersed in the club and had a great love for all things Celtic. I wasn’t to know it at the time, but the Scottish Cup Final of Saturday, 14 May 1988 was to become my defining Celtic moment.

A teenage Robert Galbraith wearing his Centenary Celtic shirt

My Centenary season started with a home win over Hearts in a midweek fixture under the lights at Celtic Park. Even though it was August, the floodlights were required on a dull, wet night in Glasgow. It took a late winner from Mark McGhee to seal a 1-0 victory for the Bhoys.

This particular game is clear in my mind for two reasons, firstly that I went to the match with my Uncle Alex, which was not common practise at that time, and secondly due to ‘the old fella’ next to me who clearly had some hearing difficulties. As the crowd chanted the name of the goal scorer, “Mark McGhee, Mark McGhee, Mark McGhee,” the old boy asked me why the fans were singing, “Aberdeen, Aberdeen, Aberdeen!”

Another popular if not ‘pc’ chant celebrating the scorer that night was, “He’s fat, he’s round, he’s worth a million pounds, Mark McGhee, Mark McGhee!” That certainly added to the feeling of euphoria following McGhee’s late winner, not to mention much hilarity amongst the fans around me in the Jungle. Fittingly, I attended my first match of the season with my Uncle Alex and, not known to me at the time, I would attend my final match of the season with him also, the 1988 Scottish Cup Final.

Celtic’s journey to the final was not quite as straightforward as I would have liked, the Hoops struggling to overcome Second Division strugglers Stranraer in the Third Round in a 1-0 home victory on Saturday, 30 January 1988, thanks to Frank McAvennie’s early goal.

Indeed, Stranraer almost grabbed a late equaliser when Bruce Cleland’s shot struck the bar with an open Celtic goal at his mercy, his last action as a senior footballer. Poor Cleland had earlier seen his penalty kick saved by Pat Bonner. A case of ‘what might have been’ for him but at least we were through.

Our Fourth-Round opponents were Hibernian at home on Sunday, 21 February 1988, a match which would be shown live on the BBC. I went along to this match with my dad and for some reason he wanted to take a seat in the Main Stand, so despite my appeals to go to one of our usual spots in the Jungle or the Celtic End, he was insistent and the Main Stand it was.

To soften the blow, quite literally, he hired some padded cushions that you could place on your seat that day. I’ve honestly never seen those before or since but despite the comfortable seat, the match wasn’t the greatest with a ‘huff and puff’ 0-0 draw being the outcome.

21/02/88 PREMIER DIVISION CELTIC V HIBS – Andy Goram saves at the feet of Mark McGhee

Frustratingly, the crowd in the main stand seemed more interested in waving for the benefit of the TV cameras (Hello Mum!) than in watching the action any time the ball was on our side of the pitch. This got on my nerves no end. Just watch the match!

Three days later, we were off to Easter Road for the replay. I had joined any old line in the queue for tickets at Celtic Park prior to the replayed fixture, not really paying attention to the fact that I was in the queue for enclosure tickets. Not the most comfortable area of the Edinburgh side’s stadium but at least we weren’t sitting down again!

It was with some hesitation that we travelled over to Edinburgh that evening. My previous visit back in November 1987 had been filled with fear as the match – not designated as all-ticket – attracted a huge crowd, and way more than capacity was inside the stadium that day, in my view.

The frightening experience was further compounded by trouble on the terraces and the throwing of a CS gas bomb into the crowd, resulting in people spilling on to the pitch and a general sense of panic. For a 15-year-old, who was “looking after” my younger cousin Kevin that day, it was pretty terrifying but, of course, I played it all down. It was no big deal, and, in any case, Celtic came away with a 1-0 victory thanks to a goal from Frank McAvennie.

It was a similar kind of evening again, in front of an all-ticket 24,000 crowd, but without the overcrowding and the crowd trouble this time. Billy Stark’s late winner sending Celtic into the quarter-final against Partick Thistle at Firhill, scheduled for Saturday, 12 March 1988.

I was looking forward to that match. I don’t think I’d ever been to Firhill by that point in time and, of course, the benefit of playing an “away” game in Glasgow was quite appealing. I recall the news reports before the game focused on the suitability of the home team’s stadium and whether or not the match could be played at Firhill, there was even talk of moving the tie to Hampden.

The go-ahead was eventually given, and the fixture was confirmed for Firhill but with a reduced capacity, making tickets harder to come by than usual and so, not for the last time that season, I was hanging in at the last minute looking for a ticket, which just never materialised.

A pal of mine, John Morrison, was a keen Jags fan and offered me a ticket for the home end. I decided not to take up this offer in the hope that I’d pick one up with the Celtic fans. Despite a late release of tickets for away fans, I was out of luck. I had the video recorder set up to tape the match to allow me to watch it again and again, and thankfully Celtic delivered with a 3-0 success with an early header from Andy Walker, a standout Tommy Burns left-foot volley and Billy Stark sealing the victory and passage to the semi-final at Hampden.

Semi-final time, so close to the final, but we were up against a strong Hearts team at Hampden on Saturday, 9 April 1988, and the outcome was not a certainty. Hearts had some good players at the time, including John Colquhoun, John Robertson and Gary Mackay, and had come close to success several times in the preceding years only to fail at the final hurdle (who can forget the final day of the season in 1986?!).

Fortunately, this time, the tickets were in the bag quite early and there was no fretting in the lead up to match day, although the journey to Hampden nearly cost my dad and Uncle Alex their own tickets. We travelled to Hampden on the Kirkintilloch CSC and my dad and Uncle had a few pre-match pints before we left the club for the bus journey.

We hit traffic queues close to the stadium and the line of buses seemed to grind to a halt with dad and Uncle Alex taking the opportunity to (ahem) relieve themselves behind a bush, while the traffic was static. Unfortunately for them, they were still in ‘mid-pee’ when the traffic started to move again and were frantically chasing the bus, and here was I, at the back window of said bus, laughing my head off and waving the three match tickets to them! There was no way I was missing this game, even if I had to go in by myself. Fortunately, they managed to catch up with the bus eventually and I got a clip around the ear for my cheek.

A huge crowd of nearly 67,000 was inside Hampden that afternoon but the match itself was really tough and sticky. I don’t recall too many opportunities for either team in the first half and at half-time it was stalemate, 0-0.

In the second half, the match kicked into life with a controversial opening goal for Hearts. A looping cross from Brian Whittaker looked like Pat Bonner’s to claim but Hearts centre-half, Dave McPherson, appeared to impede Packie and the ball sailed straight into the net. The Celtic players appealed for a foul, but the goal was given, much to the annoyance of the Hoops contingent. I still maintain that it was a foul on Bonner to this day, but it seemed to spark the Celts into life, and now it was game on.

Celtic seemed to miss chance after chance and, finally, Billy McNeill decided to make some changes, with Joe Miller coming off and Mark McGhee replacing him from the bench. McGhee had a good record against Hearts. He was a good, experienced striker and we held our breath and hoped for the best. As it turned out, it was a great substitution from the manager and Mark certainly had a key part to play in the final outcome.

By this point in the match, the Maestro Paul McStay was running the show and Celtic continued to press Hearts and create chances but just couldn’t take them. Maybe it wasn’t going to be our day this time. As “Hearts, Hearts, glorious Hearts” rang out from the covered terrace at the other end of Hampden, the Celtic fans were becoming agitated.

Then, as the clocked ticked down and time was running out, that wee bit of Celtic magic finally raised its head, the stuff that dreams are made of, the defining moments that stay in your head for years to come. Celtic equalised! It was really late in the game, surely only a few minutes to go, as Tommy Burns swung in a left-footed corner-kick in front of the Celtic End. Hearts keeper Henry Smith came out to clutch the ball and somehow, just somehow, he dropped it. Right at the feet of Mark McGhee.

Now, at this point, Hearts were hanging on and had just about everyone back in the box to defend this late corner-kick. Even though the ball was at the feet of McGhee, it seemed like the entire Hearts team was between him and the goal. He takes a touch and somehow trundles it in, over the line and Hampden erupts with sheer joy, delight and frankly, relief. I was thinking that at least we were still in it and even if it went to a replay, we would surely triumph.

Mark McGhee is tackled by Brian Whittaker April 1988

And then it happened again!

A free-kick to Celtic, just inside our own half. I’m looking at big Roy Aitken shaping up to take the kick and he’s pointing forward. He’s sending the whole Celtic team forward. It’s the last minute and we’re going for it. You could just sense that something was about to happen. We couldn’t win it at the death, could we?

Aitken’s free-kick, launched deep into the Hearts half, was cut out by Kenny Black, who sent the ball out for a throw-in on the Main Stand side, just in front of the Celtic End, right in front of me. Expectation was in the air. We can do this,

Billy Stark found Frank McAvennie with the throw-in and the Hoops striker scooped a ball into the penalty area. Smith comes for it, but Mark McGhee gets there a split second before him with a header and Andy Walker “roofs it” into the net. Bedlam! We’ve done it! There’s no time left and we’re in the final. My goodness me, what a finish to this match. Just incredible.

The next day, my Mum, who has absolutely no interest in football, asked me how I enjoyed the match. I told her that Hampden is a big stadium and how I struggled to see up the other end as it just seemed so far away. We were at Uddingston Retail Park at the time, and quick as a flash she says, “can you read that sign?” I couldn’t read it and was immediately whisked off for an Opticians appointment and the next thing you know I’m lumbered with a pair of specs, which I refused to wear for years. I was 15 years old and way too cool for spectacles! It’s funny the things that can come into your mind when you’re thinking about Celtic!

Celtic Tour Guide Robert Galbraith on the centenary Scottish Cup Final win over Dundee United on 14 May 1988…

What follows is Robert’s viivd recollections of such a memorable day for the Celtic supporters at Hampden and watching on television. You’ll love this…

A Celtic rite of passage – Galbraith family style

Our 1988 Scottish Cup final opponents were Dundee United, who had beaten Aberdeen 1-0 after a second replay (Replays! Remember them?!). United were a terrific team at the time. The year before, they had made it all the way to the UEFA Cup final, narrowly losing out to Gothenburg in a two-legged final.

In 1984, they had reached the European Cup semi-final and in my opinion were robbed by Roma (perhaps no coincidence that Rome’s Stadio Olimpico was to host the final that year). I really admired the Tayside outfit, a really experienced team full of quality and with some exciting young talent like Billy McKinlay and Kevin Gallacher.

The demand for tickets was huge but I wasn’t concerned. I was usually ok for tickets thanks mainly to my Dad (with the exception of Firhill in the quarter-final). However, as the day of the final drew closer, my anxiety increased as I was still ticketless with no sign of anything happening on that front.

There were a few public sales, and my dad and I joined a couple of long queues at Celtic Park but unfortunately the supply of tickets had run out before we reached the front. He even got me out of school one day (don’t tell the Headie!) as we joined another queue at SFA’s Park Garden Headquarters in Glasgow and once again we left empty-handed. There were no tickets to be had and it seemed like everyone was looking for one.

It was Saturday, 14 May 1988, cup final day. The weather was stunning, with clear blue skies and bright sunshine but despite this I was feeling rather low. I didn’t have a cup final ticket and I wouldn’t be at Hampden. Sure, I would watch it on the television with my dad and we’d cheer on the team and hope for a great result but it’s just not the same. There’s nothing like being there, being with the Celtic support, singing the songs, feeling the tension and sharing the highs and lows. There’s absolutely nothing like it. I can’t imagine being an armchair fan. It’s just not for me.

Remember that wee bit of Celtic magic I mentioned earlier? Well, it happened to me that day

I had already been up to the local shop on my racer bike, buying all sorts of crisps, chocolate and coca cola, ready to settle down and watch the match on TV and despite the disappointment, I was starting to come around and look forward to the match. I was getting excited and the butterflies were starting.

It was just before 1.00pm and I was wondering what to do with myself before kick-off. In those days, the pre-match build-up seemed to start in the morning and last all day. I’d watched some updates from Wembley, where Wimbledon were up against the mighty Liverpool, “the crazy gang against the culture club” as John Motson would famously say that day. I’d had a kickabout in the front garden, practising some “keepy-uppies” but I was getting impatient and just wanted the match to start.

And then the phone rang.

Cup final ticket heroine Auntie Betty, with Robert’s dad and his sister in the background

I answered. It was my Auntie Betty, she sounded excited and then she blurted out those magical words “We’ve got you a ticket, son! You can go on the Kirkintilloch bus with your Uncle Alex!” I don’t think I even said “thanks” as I put the phone down, shouted “DAD!!!!” and he got me over to Kirkintilloch from Cumbernauld, just before the bus was about to leave for Hampden.

What a ‘wummin’ my wee Auntie Betty was, an absolute gem, a real character. I loved being in her company and spending time with her, my Uncle Gerry and my cousins Gerald, Catherine and Kevin. Even to this day, I still see my Uncle Gerry and my cousins on a match day. A real Celtic family. Just like everyone else!

Robert and cousin Gerry at Celtic Park

God bless you Auntie Betty. I’ll never forget you (or that phone call) as long as I live.

Of course, it could all have been worthless. We could’ve been beaten by United and then it would all have meant nothing. But then I wouldn’t be sitting here with tears in my eyes writing these words for publication on The Celtic Star. It wasn’t worthless, it was absolutely magical.

The bus ride over to Hampden was full of excitement. The colours were on show, the bus in full voice with the Celtic song. One of the daft things I remember is a guy getting thrown off the bus for peeing in a beer can! Once the can was full, the contents overflowed and were running up and down the aisle. Needless to say, the bus convener was not too pleased. I wonder if the guy made it to Hampden and if not, what happened to his ticket!

As the bus parked up and I’m walking down Aikenhead Road with my Uncle Alex, I felt that he was treating me as his equal, not as a kid. Alex, you see, isn’t actually that much older than me so I was doing his head in every time I called him “Uncle Alex” until he finally snapped and said “For heaven’s sake, Robert. Stop calling me Uncle Alex, you’re making me feel auld!” I’ve never called him “Uncle Alex” since. Well, only when I’m winding him up!

He even offered me a can of beer adding, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell your Da!” Needless to say, I refused his offer as I was a bit straightlaced in those days and anyway, I wanted to play for Celtic in a few years’ time and you don’t drink beer if you want to play for Celtic!

We walked through the winding road where the old prefab houses used to be and made our way through the turnstile and into the North Terrace of Hampden Park. We were in the family section and I’m pretty sure the price of my child ticket was £1.00. Yes, £1.00 for a cup final ticket. Mental! The family section was a mixed area with fans of both teams, but it was mostly Celtic supporters that day.

The stadium filled up and the place looked incredible in the sunshine. The pipers were in full flow on the pitch which looked fantastic with the stripes cropped into the surface. A full house of over 74,000 spectators with the colours, the flags and the fans in full voice. Perfect.

The teams came out and, as usual, lined up in front of the Main Stand. There was a surprise in the Celtic goals that day as Pat Bonner – who had been struggling with an injury all week, that news kept quiet by Celtic – was replaced by Allen McKnIght. Out came the red cards for Maggie Thatcher and then we were off!

1988: Dennis Thatcher and Margaret Thatcher during the Scottish Cup Final match between Celtic and Dundee United at Hampden. Celtic won the match 2-1. Photo Allsport UK/Allsport

Celtic kicked off and we were up and running, the Celtic fans chanting “Championees, championees, ole, ole, ole!” in celebration of our League title victory only a few weeks earlier.

I remember watching the highlights later that night. I must have watched them a hundred times and could just about repeat the entire commentary, from Archie MacPherson’s opening lines of “Celtic, in their Centenary year. Dundee United, 21 years younger, almost an infant by comparison.”

We’re underway, with deep breaths, fingers crossed, and prayers silently offered for a successful outcome for the Hoops. Celtic survived an early scare with Paul McStay clearing a header off the goal line. Joe Miller was looking lively but failed to connect with a back post cross and his weak header was easily cleared despite a wee bit of a scramble and you could hear, and feel, the tension in the air as the fans hoped for the opening goal. The first half ended with very few clear chances but despite the 0-0 score line it was a keenly contested match.

May 1988: Scottish Cup Final played between Celtic and Dundee United held at Hampden Photo David Cannon /Allsport

The highlight of the first half was my Uncle Alex’s regular requirement to ask for forgiveness from the fans in front of us. As usual, Alex was shouting and encouraging the team and occasionally the odd swear word would slip in here and there and he felt the need to apologise to the three nuns in front of us on the terrace with each and every blasphemy. “I’m really sorry, God forgive me.” I don’t think the nuns were too bothered. They were giving out plenty “encouragement” themselves to their green and white favourites!

1988: Billy Thomson saves a shot for Dundee United during the Scottish Cup Final match against Celtic at Hampden. Celtic won the match 2-1. Photo Allsport UK /Allsport

The second half started with the Celts shooting towards the East Terrace, a sea of green and white (as most of Hampden was that day) with around 60,000 Celtic supporters in the 74,000 crowd. The fans also gave British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher a wee shout out as the second half got underway. Both sets of supporters joined in unison to tell Maggie, how should I say this, where to go!

Early in the second half, Roy Aitken fouled United’s speed demon, Kevin Gallacher, on the edge of the box with the referee dishing out a yellow card. This was to prove costly later in the game for Aitken and Celtic. Incidentally, the United striker himself has a direct connection with Celtic Football Club through his famous grandfather, Patsy Gallacher, a club legend and scorer of an incredible cup final goal in 1925, somersaulting with the ball trapped between his feet and over the line and into the net. I’m sure VAR these days would find a way of ruling that out for some misdemeanour or other.

1988: Tosh McKinlay of Dundee United with Paul McStay and Tommy Burns of Celtic during the Scottish Cup Final match at Hampden Celtic won the match 2-1 Photo Allsport UK /Allsport

United’s free kick from Eamonn Bannon found a way through the wall but McKnight managed to cover the post and dive to his left to make the save. Shortly after that, Celtic were in trouble. A through ball played towards the Celtic backline and Gallacher raced on to it. Aitken can’t keep up with him and he can’t touch him, having already received a yellow card. I’m sure the memory of his red card in the 1984 cup final must have been on his mind as Gallacher streaked away and struck a beauty into the top corner. United were ahead.

At this point, you wonder if it’s going to be our day but then you remember the semi-final and think that anything is possible. That seemed to be the feeling as the huge Celtic crowd roared on the Bhoys before the match restarted. It felt as if the place was shaking. It felt as if Celts had scored the opening goal and not Dundee United. With this backing anything is possible. We couldn’t do it again. Could we?

Celtic switched into attacking mode straight away with Joe Miller probing and drawing a corner, much to the approval of the fans behind the goal. Mick McCarthy’s header soars over the bar but the Celtic fans were encouraged. Gallacher darted through on goal from another long ball, it looked like he might get there but McKnight raced out of goal to clear the danger. And breathe!

Celtic charged forward. A Tommy Burns free-kick into the box was met by centre half McCarthy whose looping header rebounded off the crossbar. This Celtic team was not giving in but United were still a threat and Bannon headed down into the ground with the ball bouncing safely over the bar.

Despite United’s threat on the break, Celtic were in control. The ball found its way to Hoops left-back Anton Rogan, in an attacking position on the left side. His cross flies over the head of United keeper Billy Thomson and defender David Narey, and Frank McAvennie is at the back post to head into the net for the equaliser. Cue chaos and madness inside Hampden, as the Celtic supporters go absolutely mental with joy. It was handshakes and cuddles all round in the North Terracing and everywhere else where green and white was worn. Even the nuns gave us a wee smile and if God’s on your side then you know what’s coming next!

The winning goal was thoroughly deserved. There wasn’t long left, maybe 15 minutes or so, but the Celtic team this season seemed to be last-gasp goal specialists, scoring late in games to rescue a point or to turn one point into two with a late winner. So now, after this equaliser and sheer outpouring of joy, it was almost expected, and Celtic, as they did so many times in the Centenary season of 87/88, were going for the win.

Celtic continued to attack with Joe Miller having a chance but United, always dangerous on the break, squandered a great chance when Bannon’s curved shot passed wide of the post. Thomson saved a shot from McAvennie, who was practically seated in the six-yard box such was his desperation to score. With the clock ticking down it was looking like we might need to go to extra-time. But then Celtic won a corner.

I can see this quite clearly in my mind’s eye. I don’t need to watch any video clips for this moment. Joe Miller’s low corner-kick, a diagonal ball on the ground, found Billy Stark who tried to divert it towards goal. The ball took a deflection and fell to the feet of McAvennie who slammed it home. It was surely the winner. Surely there was no time left. Surely, we had won the cup, and the Double, in our Centenary year. Surely this would be a day to remember for the rest of my life. Surely this was history. Oh. My. God.

United had a late chance. Another through ball and Kevin Gallacher is on to it again. He falls to the ground and the ball goes out of play. Penalty? I’m holding my breath and looking through my fingers but the referee points to the corner-flag. Ooft! This is getting too much now. I’m stressed out of my mind!

As the corner-kick comes into the Celtic penalty area, the referee blows the final whistle. It’s all over and we’ve done it. We’ve won the Double in our Centenary year!

It’s a sea of green and white. I’m hugging my Uncle Alex and we’re jumping up and down with sheer delight. He gives me a big slabbery kiss on the cheek and we look back towards the pitch to see the players celebrating. I draw breath for a second or two and puff out before smiling and laughing. I don’t know why I’m laughing, pure relief and release maybe, but I’m looking up and around the stadium and soaking it all in. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel like this again, it feels amazing.

1988: Mark McGhee (left) Frank McAvennie (second left) McNeil (seond right) and Roy Aitken (right) all of Celtic celebrate with the trophy after winning the Scottish Cup Final against Dundee United at Hampden Park in Glasgow, Scotland. Celtic won the match 2-1. Photo Allsport UK /Allsport

We watched the team collect the famous old trophy and cheered in turn for each of the players. Alex turns to head towards the exits, but I stay still. I don’t move. I’m taking in each and every last second of this. I want to remember this for ever. I’m brought back into reality when I’m told, quite sharply (just as well the nuns had already left), that if we don’t get a move on, we’ll miss the supporters’ bus but I’m pretty sure Alex was looking to get a quick beer before we headed home.

I can’t remember the supporters’ bus journey home, or being picked up by my dad later that evening from Kirkintilloch. I only remember making sure the video recorder was set to capture the highlights when I got home. I was in my own wee Celtic world for hours on end. A day which had started on a downer, without a cup final ticket, had ended in a dramatic finale and memories that will last a lifetime.

On Monday, 14 May 2018 I took the day off work. It was the 30th anniversary of our Centenary year cup final triumph. I headed over to Hampden and inside to complete the museum and stadium tour before heading home. At 3.00pm, exactly 30 years to the minute, I pressed play on YouTube and watched the entire match all over again, as if it was live, and I was back at Hampden as a 15-year-old watching my heroes all over again.

And it was magic, again!

Robert Galbraith

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