A few days after the horrible events of Saturday it doesn’t feel any easier thinking or writing about the death of Phil O’Donnell.
As everyone before me has said he was a great guy, decent and straightforward and always a pleasure to talk to, a cheery reminder of an exciting era at Celtic where young guys like Phil, Simon Donnelly, Jackie McNamara and others like Malky Mackay and Stuart Kerr were mixing with guys like Paul McStay and Peter Grant plus others dropping in on the club such as Pierre van Hoojidonk and Paolo di Canio.
The radio phone-ins seemed a bit subdued coming back from the Gretna match, a few messages were sent to Phil O’Donnell and his family and I thought that he’d maybe had a bad injury, perhaps career threatening knowing his bad luck.
When Radio Scotland announced that Phil was dead it was like the end of the world, surely not? where did that come from, that can’t be right… but it was.
From a distance it was cold and painful enough, to those closer to Phil no one can imagine their feelings.
Typically the football authorities managed to get things wrong, some games off as a mark of respect, some games on as a mark of respect, decisions reversed, leaving it to the clubs then insisting that Dundee United go ahead with a game four days after their players had watched an opponent die in front of them.
Phil wasn’t the greatest ever player but he never shirked anything, he could have packed it in after Sheffield Wednesday but enjoyed his time back at Motherwell putting something back into the game and releasing some of the frustrations of having a promising career decimated by injuries.
Phil had time for everyone without bigging himself up and could be seen out and about in Hamilton always with a smile or hello for everyone.
Tragic doesn’t begin to describe his loss and words will never express the sadness of a wife and four kids left without their dad who lived the dream of millions of Celtic supporters.