Out of frying pan, into fire?

Despite leaving Northern Ireland, Neil Lennon may not have escaped sectarianism completely. Michael Walker on Glasgow's 2½ big clubs

On Cave Hill I saw that there is one thing to be said in favour of Belfast - you can get out of it quickly . . .

It is more than 60 years since Seán O'Faolain wrote those words, but Neil Lennon would have acknowledged their relevance as he departed Belfast on Thursday morning.

You can see the Cave Hill from the main stand at Windsor Park, but Lennon could be excused if he had kept his eyes on the floor.

Today Lennon is back in the public eye. A Glasgow derby is hardly the cocoon from Northern Ireland's sectarianism that he would have been seeking, but Celtic must travel 15 minutes across the city for this afternoon's derby.

Thankfully for Lennon, it is not to Ibrox, home of Rangers, but to Firhill, home of Partick Thistle, Glasgow's third football club.

These are comparatively prosperous times for Thistle, back in the top flight for the first time in six years.

That may not sound like a long time to Wolves fans, but Partick had rapidly plummeted into the Scottish third division, and needed a fan-based rally to save it from closure.

"Save the Jags" worked and the reward will be a 14,000 sell-out for Celtic's visit to Firhill today.

Celtic have won all three league games so far this season, but Thistle themselves are unbeaten.

Nevertheless, an upset is on the unlikely side of far-fetched, and besides, much of today - at least until kick-off and for his first few touches after that - will be about Lennon. Which is precisely what the midfielder does not want.

Firhill, though, may be the one place in Glasgow where, slowly, it is possible for Lennon to slink back out of the spotlight.

The fans of Thistle have a reputation, of which they are proud, for being the anti-sectarian alternative to Glasgow's Old Firm.

One of their favourite songs is:

Hello, hello, how do you do? We hate the boys in royal blue, we hate the boys in emerald green, so fuck the Pope and fuck the Queen.

Parity of antipathy it would be called in Northern Ireland.

Culturally, Thistle are regarded patronisingly as the "cuddly toy Glasgow club" according to Eddie Moore, an influential figure in the "Save the Jags" campaign. "A lot of people have a soft spot for Thistle."

Perhaps the club's significance lies in what they are not, rather than what they are, and as Moore said, that significance should not be overstated.

"Celtic get over 60,000, Rangers get 50,000, Thistle get 5,000. You can't argue with the numbers."

The bulk of the 5,000 regulars detest Celtic and Rangers and what they symbolise, but that does not mean Thistle will turn the other cheek. Lennon, in fact, is likely to hear some of it.

"There will probably be some chants about death threats but I think that would be tongue in cheek," said Moore.

"I think the Thistle supporters will largely ignore it because that would identify them with Rangers. I think Lennon is widely regarded as one of the good guys."

Moore understood that his "tongue in cheek" remark may sound flippant, more so because his opinion is that the sectarianism surrounding the Old Firm is worsening.

"This may be a minority view but I think it's got deeper, darker and more dangerous. I feel that the whole Northern Ireland connection has got worse.

"There's an added horrible dimension - people are dying and being mutilated after football matches."

Finding statistics to support that view is difficult given that sectarianism is a way of thinking as well as having a physical manifestation.

Sectarianism in Scotland is not recognised in law in the manner of racism, but that does not mean it is not present.

Far from it.

Seven years ago, following a Thistle-Celtic match, the 16 year-old Celtic fan Mark Scott had his throat cut to the spine while walking through Glasgow on his way home.

The killer, Jason Campbell, turned out to be the son of a UVF terrorist, and Campbell subsequently applied to become a political prisoner in Ulster.

Yet, in court, there was no mention of sectarianism, despite the fact Scott was identified as a Catholic and murdered because he was wearing a Celtic jersey.

Scott's friend Cara Henderson set up an organisation called Nil By Mouth after that, and a spokesman for the group yesterday expressed frustration that there is no official gauge of just how many religious attacks there are in Glasgow and beyond.

Nil By Mouth contest the last set of figures published by the government, for the year 1999-2000.

It said there were no sectarian murders for the year: Nil By Mouth say there were eight, most after Old Firm games, including two after Old Firm reserve games.

"I think it's as bad as it's ever been," said the spokesman about Glasgow's football violence. "I don't think it's improving. People in power have a tendency and a motivation to play it down, but our research after Old Firm games shows that death is an all-too-regular occurrence - too regular to ignore."

Into this environment walked Lennon 20 months ago. A relatively high-profile player at Leicester City, he went up a level in becoming an immediate hate figure for Rangers fans.

This was not solely because of his Irish background, but also because he was a winner. Lennon quickly emerged as one of Martin O'Neill's key players and, as O'Neill said at Celtic Park yesterday, Lennon has been abused at places other than Ibrox and Windsor Park.

Aberdeen is another venue where Lennon has been singled out for particular stick, and while some say there is an element of pantomime about this, O'Neill was dismissive of those in Scotland attributing some of the guilt to Lennon.

"I think he's a bit more sensitive than you think," he said.

O'Neill was understandably reluctant to expand upon the sectarianism he experienced as a member of a successful Northern Ireland team in the 1970s and 80s, nor was he inclined to discuss Glasgow's divisions in relation to Belfast's and the Old Firm's place in it all.

One thing he did say briskly was "of course" when asked if Lennon is available for today's match. The businesslike tone was echoed across Glasgow, where the Partick secretary Alan Dick said that there would be no extra police for the game.

"Why?" said Dick angrily.

The previous day Dick had issued a similar message on Glasgow, football and sectarianism.

"We are a small club in between two massive ones and we draw players from every creed and colour. Anyway, religion has nothing to do with football."

Amen to that.

Guardian Service