Scotland native carves out Hall of Fame spot, via Vegas

By Rob Miech

Monday, May 18, 2009 | 2:05 a.m.

John Kennedy’s path to the National Soccer Hall of Fame, where the longtime referee will be inducted Aug. 1, has been paved with sharp elbows from the streets of Glasgow.

He bounced a few steps ahead of fate on Stairway 13 at Ibrox Stadium, took a fortuitous detour to Las Vegas and has never lost an ounce of his love for the beautiful game.

On their first date, he took wife Marjory to a Rangers Social Club, where they had dinner and a hypnotist performed in a hall connected to an end of Ibrox on Copland Road.

“I’m like, OK, fine,” Marjory says as her husband of 35 years wears a blue Rangers jersey and watches a Serie A match from Italy on mute on the big screen in the living room of their comfortable Henderson home.

“I should have known then that that would be his No. 1 love … followed by me and the dog.”

The Cocker Spaniel, barking upstairs, is named “Broxi,” after the stadium. Their first pooch was named “Clyde,” after the famous river on which his father and grandfather helped build the Queen Mary, Queen Elizabeth and QE2.

John Kennedy slightly laughs on the topics of his wife, his dog and the game that has served as the canvas of his life.

“I don’t really put them in order,” he says. “I don’t want to disappoint anybody.”

He remembers May 13, 1955, his parents’ anniversary. He was 4.

“It was my first game,” says Kennedy, who turns 59 today. “And you know what? I still love this game like that first day I kicked the ball. That’s how much love and passion I have for it.”

The Old Firm

Someone once wore a Celtic jersey to a party at Kennedy’s home. Soon enough, the miscreant was shirtless. Later, he ended up in Kennedy’s pool.

“Marj” knows not to keep anything faintly resembling Celtic green in the house. Kennedy has a Rangers pad for his computer mouse, a Rangers calendar by the door of his office and Rangers banners everywhere.

Rangers underwear?

“No,” he says, “but I do have Rangers pajamas.”

Red Sox-Yankees? Lakers-Celtics? Bears-Packers? Multiply any sporting rivalry in the U.S. by 10 and it might be possible to comprehend the Rangers-Celtic battle, dubbed the “Old Firm” since 1888.

“No,” Kennedy says, “times 100!”

It goes beyond culture, with politics and religion in its backbone.

“Schools were all segregated, so that was a part of it,” says Marj.

“Protestants followed Rangers, Catholics followed Celtic,” Kennedy says. “That’s what gave it an edge. There were no Celtic supporters in a Protestant school.”

His football fever was further stoked when, at 12, through an aunt’s boyfriend’s father who was a groundsman at Hampden Park, Scotland’s national stadium and the home of Queen’s Park, he got his first job.

Before every match, he raised the flags of Scotland and the participating clubs. He got the autograph of Sir Alex Ferguson, another son of Glasgow who has run Manchester United in England for 22 seasons, when he was a rookie striker for Queen’s Park.

He also saw the legendary tandem of Alfredo Di Stefano and Ferenc Puskas combine for all of Real Madrid’s goals in a 7-3 pounding of Eintracht Frankfurt in the 1960 European Cup finale at Hampden.

He prizes their signatures, too.

“I went to all the big games,” Kennedy says. “That was my job. I am so lucky.”

Stairway 13

Kennedy and his mates were dejected when Celtic scored late at Ibrox on Jan. 2, 1971. Rangers fans left en masse. A minute later, Colin Stein equalized for the Rangers.

In the ensuing mayhem near the base of Stairway 13, fans fell and were tripped. A surge took over. Sixty-six fans perished in the crush.

The blackest day, read local headlines, in the history of Scottish football.

“I remember it as if it were yesterday,” Kennedy says. “The steel handrails were under so much pressure from humans they bent like rubber. We were fortunate to survive that.”

Kennedy figures he and his pals were maybe 10 steps – “10 seconds,” he says – ahead of the tragedy.

They couldn’t decipher the screaming. That’s where fights broke out, so they kept moving. They adhered to the major rules of exiting matches – keep your hands free for balance and don’t look back.

They went to a pub. They didn’t find out about the horror until it was broadcast over a television set in the bar.

“We thought we’d all better call our mothers,” Kennedy says. “Every one of them was crying. They thought we were involved. It was just a nightmare. A disaster.”

See you at Snaffle

When Kennedy was 16, he visited an aunt in Las Vegas. Wow, he said aloud. At some point in my life, I want to live here.

Back in Glasgow, he became a sturdy defender. He rarely got beat, he says. He wasn’t afraid to earn a yellow card. He played in semi-pro and recreational leagues.

At Springburn College, he learned about automobiles, focusing on electrical wiring and diesel engines.

“I took three buses to training and three buses back,” he says. “At night, I’d go to trade school to get my degree. What a full day. My God, I don’t know how I did it.

“When I’d go back home to visit my mum and friends, I’d go to a game and have a few. My mum would say, ‘Take the bus.’ I’d say, ‘No, I’ll call me a taxi. I don’t take buses anymore. I’ve seen enough buses to last a lifetime.’”

He married Marj, and they moved to South Africa for a few years in the mid-1970s. He ran an auto shop. They moved back to Scotland and despised the cold.

They escaped to Las Vegas, where he bought an auto parts store with a friend, in late 1981. John and Marj became U.S. citizens two years ago.

Thursday, they leave for one of their annual trips to Scotland. Friday, they’ll dine in the lounge of the Duck Bay Marina Hotel in Loch Lomond, one of their favorite spots in the world.

On May 30, Kennedy will take in the Scottish Cup finale between Rangers and Falkirk at Ibrox. That night, he and his wife will meet a couple dozen of their old friends at The Snaffle Bit.

The pub on Sauchiehall Street in Glasgow is another of Kennedy’s favorite spots. After one 12-year absence, he returned to Glasgow to see his friends. He went straight to Snaffle. His mates were all where he’d left them.

“Almost,” Kennedy says, “in the same seats.”

Man in the middle

Kennedy knew nothing about the Hall of Fame until the official letter, notifying him of his election and imminent induction, arrived five weeks ago.

He sat down. He read it twice.

“Total shock,” he says Saturday afternoon, after officiating an adult co-ed game at the Silver Bowl complex by Sam Boyd Stadium.

Kennedy figures he has been a fourth official, linesman or referee in more than 15,000 matches, at all levels. He has held an array of administrative posts in the state.

He is indebted to former UNLV coach Barry Barto, who played a critical role in helping him to officiate collegiate soccer matches.

Kennedy’s crowning achievement was being the referee – the man in the middle – when Duke beat Akron for the NCAA title in Tacoma, Wash., in 1986.

But he will tell you Saturday morning’s co-ed match was just as important.

Of all the recommendation letters that were sent to New York for his Hall of Fame consideration, the one from the former UCLA coach and two-time Major League Soccer Cup winner Sigi Schmid stands out.

Kennedy once reffed a West Regional final between the Bruins and Santa Clara on a sloppy field, where it was difficult to distinguish between a foul and a slip.

Kennedy hit a Bruin with a second yellow card, and automatic ejection. After the game, Schmid confronted Kennedy, and Kennedy admitted he had pulled out the second yellow card too early.

“If you know me, you know I can be angry. But all I could say was, OK and thanks,” Schmid wrote. “He was man enough to admit an error, professional enough to know that once it was done he could not change it, and loyal to the game that it had to stand as it was.

“ … he always learned because he was not afraid to admit mistakes and he was always improving because of that.”

Slim for the show

The death of his good friend, John Chisholm, from diabetes complications last year in Scotland made Kennedy reassess his own health.

After streamlining his diet and exercise, he has dropped 48 pounds over the past 15 weeks. He’s at 200. He’s aiming for 178, his weight at 21.

“I’ll look my best in New York,” says a beaming Kennedy.

Friends who are going to the ceremony, to hear Kennedy’s speech have told Marj how happy they are that she’ll be there to interpret his foamy Scottish brogue.

John looks at his wife.

“She’s made the greatest sacrifice,” he says. “She kept the home all the time I was away. You can’t do it without a good woman.”

John Simpson Mike Kennedy also believes his father, who suffered a fatal heart attack at the age of 53 in 1976, and his late namesake paternal grandfather will be watching.

“They chiseled me,” says Kennedy, his eyes glistening. “They gave me the skills and character to never compromise myself. They’ve taken me this far. Yeah, I think they’ll be watching.”

Rob Miech can be reached at [email protected] or 702-948-7847