John Finlay was a typical Scottish lad o' pairts, a much-gifted young man committed from an early age to improving his lot in life. He was born in Law in Lanarkshire in 1886, at the height of the industrial age which had made Britain great, and completed his basic education at Law Public School. Just twelve years old, he began his working life as a pit boy at Shawfield Colliery. Amply endowed with the Victorian qualities of ambition, independence of mind and a determination to succeed, he was quick to appreciate the advantages of further education. He loved to quote Sir James Murray's dictum, "Knowledge is power", and he did so throughout his life to anyone who would listen. The young Finlay attended classes at Coatbridge Technical School and Mining College with such success that he won every prize on offer, including the Ross medal for the best student. He gained further distinction as the King Edward medallist in mining and was awarded First Class Honours in the Board of Education examinations, South Kensington. He began to combine the back-breaking toil of the miner and ganger by day with pursuit of part-time studies in his leisure hours. Bill, his young son, was often sent by his mother to meet his father at the colliery gates with a Scottish "piece", a filled sandwich or two which enabled him to proceed directly to night-school courses without going home for a meal. Such was the determination of the man.

Further study at the Royal Technical College, Glasgow, and the acquisition of a First Class Certificate of Competency in Mine Management, quickly led to appointments as under-manager then manager at Messrs Wilson and Clyde Coal Company's Law Collieries and later at the Coltness Iron Company's Kingshill No 3 pit. After a period as general manager with the Edinburgh Collieries Company Limited, he left in 1927 to take up a similar appointment with United Collieries Limited. The subsequent appointment as managing director of this company in 1939 placed John Finlay in direct control of 14 collieries and 2,500 employees. He had studied coal-mining in Germany for a year and his deep knowledge and wide experience of the industry had brought him deserved recognition in his chosen career. In his early days he was called upon to share his expertise with fellow miners through a lectureship in mining at his old college in Coatbridge. Towards the end of his life, his achievements were capped with the Presidency of the Mining Institute of Scotland, which he held from 1942 to 1945. This was a time when World War II was finely poised. A coalition government, hampered by falling levels of coal production and threats of recurring strikes, was gearing up for a final push in Europe. The importance of coal to the war effort, and Finlay's personal devotion to his weighty responsibilities in helping to deliver it, undoubtedly contributed to his premature death at the age of 60 on March 26'h 1946. Today, such a man would be hailed as a captain of industry and be a strong candidate for a knighthood.

More than 80,000 were at Ibrox to witness an event that has remained imprinted on the Scottish football psyche ever since. With the second half barely five minutes old, Rangers striker Sam English broke free and lined up to shoot from near the penalty spot. He seemed certain to score, when Thomson launched one of his do-or-die head-first saves at the attacker's feet. It was Thomson's trademark save - in February 1930 against Airdrie he'd been injured doing exactly the same thing, fracturing his jaw and injuring his ribs. This time there was an even more sickening crunch, Thomson's head colliding with English's knee at the moment of greatest impact. It was no longer a do-or-die moment, it was a do-and-die. The ball ran out of play, English fell to the ground and rose limping, Thomson lay unconscious, blood seeping into the pitch.

The dazed English was the first to realise the seriousness of the blow and hobbled over to the unmoving keeper, waving urgently for assistance. Celtic fans were cheering the missed goal, Rangers fans were taunting the injured keeper, but the gravity of the situation was soon upon them. Rangers' captain Davie Meiklejohn raised his arms to implore the home fans to be silent. A hush descended over the ground. In the stands Margaret Finlay, Thomson's fiancee, broke down as she saw him borne from the ground, head wrapped in bandages, body limp...

What followed was an outpouring of public grief that, it is said, briefly united communities across the sectarian divide. In Bridgeton, Glasgow, traffic was brought to a halt by thousands of pedestrians walking past a floral tribute to Thomson, placed in a shop window by the local Rangers supporters club. And at Glasgow's Trinity Congregational Church there were unruly scenes when thousands struggled to get into Thomson's memorial service. Women screamed with alarm at the crush and only swift action by police cleared a passageway and stemmed the rush. Celtic right-half Peter Wilson, who was due to read a lesson, failed to gain entrance and found himself stranded outside the church for the ceremony.

Tens of thousands went to Queen Street station to see the coffin off on its train journey home to Fife. Many thousands more made the same journey: by train, by car and by foot. Unemployed workers walked the 55 miles, spending the night on the Craigs, a group of hills behind Auchterderran. In Fife, local pits closed down for the day and it seemed as if the whole of Scotland had swelled the small streets of Cardenden. Thomson's coffin, topped by one of his international caps and a wreath in the design of an empty goal, was carried by six Celtic players the mile from his home to Bowhill cemetery, where he was laid to rest in the sad and quiet graveyard populated by the victims of many, many mining disasters.

A Celtic attack had broken down. Davie Meiklejohn, the Rangers captain and right half, emerged with the ball and saw possibilities for an attack down Celtic's left flank, along the grandstand touchline. His measured pass was picked up by his team mate, the fleet-footed Jimmy Fleming, who was alert and quick enough to elude a challenging tackle from Celtic's left back Peter McGonagle. Looking up, Fleming immediately noted that the failed Celtic attack had caught their centre half Jimmy McStay upfield, and struggling to get back into the heart of his defence. He saw too that, unmarked, Rangers' young centre forward, Sam English, had stolen through the inside right channel into a dangerous position at the edge of Celtic's eighteen-yard box. The pass, which Fleming dispatched in front of the on-rushing English, was an inch-perfect invitation to shoot for goal, and English gave it his very best.

From the moment he had seen his team's forward momentum falter, Thomson was primed for danger. He could see that his captain McStay would not make it back in time. He tensed as the thrusting counter-attack developed with such speed in front of him. He had watched McGonagle's tackle on Fleming fail. Now English was rapidly bearing down on him. No other defender was close enough to intervene. All his senses told the keeper that English was going to shoot. In the few seconds that remained to him to make a decision, Thomson was torn between two of his most basic goalkeeping instincts formed long before on the far-off fields of his native Fife: not to leave his line, unless in extremis; but always to go for the ball. He moved towards English, crouching and creeping forward to narrow the angle. Fractionally he hesitated on the six yard line, winding himself up to pounce. All the options to save his goal had now come down to his own judgment and personal courage. With eyes never leaving the ball, he launched himself towards his opponent's feet. As a contemporary photograph clearly shows, English's boot had already connected cleanly with the ball sending it goalwards before Thomson's brave and selfless dive had diverted it off his projectile body to trickle safely past his right hand post. The fact that the referee awarded a goal kick notwithstanding, Celtic's last line of defence had executed one of his bravest saves and once more had not been found wanting when crisis threatened his team.