Twinkling Toes
India is a country of more than a billion souls with famous exports in various fields from cinema to cricket to science But one place where India and indeed other nations of its size lack is a football team of fame on the international stage.
Like China, another nation with a vast population that many feels can eventually reach the top of the world game, India have qualified for a World Cup- but ultimately never played a match.
Instead, they withdrew although India wasn’t the only nation to do so, as Scotland and Turkey both did so too. Scotland on principle as they had vowed only to take their place if they won the preceding British Home Championship which was also the method of qualification back then, they finished second behind the English, who had committed to attending. Despite attempts to persuade them to join England, they ultimately did not.
Turkey, on the other hand, refused their place owing to the costs of travelling to South America — something which had put off the European nations twenty years earlier at the inaugural World Cup in Uruguay.
But humble India would not take up their place at the return of the World Cup after the war because they refused the FIFA mandate that required them to wear boots.
All of this brings us to the story of Mohammed Salim, brought over to Glasgow on a ship from Calcutta to play just two matches for Celtic. Neither were for their senior side, but leave such an impression the club sent his family money upon learning of his ill health and then death some fifty years later.
Born in what was then called Calcutta in 1904, his date of birth unknown, Salim. was raised in a lower-middle-class family
Prodigious from the beginning, he began his career in 1926 with Chittaranjan Sporting Club of Bowbazar in central Calcutta. This experience of playing for a club managed by middle-class Bengali intellectuals helped to forge his determination to shine in his bare feet against the colonials who wore boots.
That same year he left to join the Mohammedan club’s second-string side, where he spent around a year before joining Sporting Union before embarking on something of a nomadic spell, also playing for East Bengal and Aryan Club between 1932 and 1934 when he returned to Mohammedan.
It was at Mohammedan where he began to show his true talents, they secured their first Calcutta League title and then went on to do so for the next five years with Salim instrumental in their dominance.
But after their triumph in 1936, he was called to face a Chinese Olympic side in two separate matches for different teams, the first for an All-India side and the second for the more Colonial sounding Civil and Military XI.
In keeping with his rising prowess, Salim dazzled in the first match for the All-India side, but before he could play, he had left the country, causing adverts to hit newspapers in a bid to locate the Indian superstar.
Salim’s excellent display had been watched by a cousin named Hasheem, who worked in a Glasgow shipyard and was home visiting family. After his cousin’s show, he persuaded him to try his luck in the European scene at a time when European players barely moved country nevermind an Indian trying his hand in Europe.
The cousins left India, and upon arrival in Glasgow, Hasheem contacted the legendary Celtic manager Willie Maley by telegram.
A great player from India has come by ship. Will you take a trial of his? But there is a slight problem. Salim plays in bare feet.
Maley, although eventually agreeing to give Salim a trial, was certainly perplexed at the prospect of an amateur from the subcontinent playing in his bare feet against Scottish professionals.
In front of many Celtic members, Salim impressed Maley, by then nearing the end of his glittering tenure as Celtic manager, enough to earn an amateur contract.
The Scottish Press found the arrival of Salim as surprising as Willie Maley perhaps felt when he received word that Salim played in bare feet, the Daily Record wrote that.
On Friday evening Celtic play Galston in an Alliance game at Parkhead. There is nothing startling about that, but the game is going draw a bigger crowd, much bigger, because Celtic will play at outside right a dark-skinned young man, Bachchi Khan (sic) of the Mohammedan Sporting Club, Calcutta. Mr. Khan has been playing football since he was 14 years of age. He is now 23. Nothing startling about that. He has played for his club against British Army teams. Nothing startling about that. But, luvaduck, the man plays in his bare feet — AND THERE’S SOMETHING STARTLING ABOUT THAT. His brother is a storekeeper at Elderslie docks and this week he made contact with Willie Maley asking that Bachchi, who is here on holiday be given a run out with Celts. The Celtic manager agreed to give our coloured visitor a place in a trial game, and he took the field sans boots, sans shinguards. And played a delightful game. His crosses to the goalmouth were pictures. And so he plays against Galston, sans boots; sans shinguards. The only “protection” he has are elastic bandages — tow-and-a-half inches deep — round his ankles, a fact that should make our bandaged toed, heavily booted shin-guarded players think. And if my information is correct Mr. Khan doesn’t give a rap if the pitch is covered with broken glass!’
Are the aspersions cast of Salim then acceptable by modern standards? Not. But it is important to remember that this was a time very much different from today’s football where foreign footballers are very much commonplace in the United Kingdom.
Salim wouldn’t have doubters for long, though as he turned in a memorable display against Galston that wowed the masses who came to see, indeed, more than 7,000 turned out to get a glimpse of this mythical barefoot man from the subcontinent to turn out for Celtic.
The Daily Express, among the media present for the match, lavished praise on Salim’s performance, stating.
Ten twinkling toes of Salim, Celtic FC’s player from India hypnotised the crowd at Parkhead last night in an Alliance game with Galston. He balances the ball on his big toe, lets it run down the scale to his little toe, twirls it, hops on one foot around the defender, then flicks the ball to the center who has only to send it into goal. Three of Celtic’s seven goals last night came from his moves. Was asked to take a penalty, he refused. Said he was shy. Salim does not speak English, his brother translates for him. Brother Hasheem thinks Salim is wonderful — so did the crowd last night.
Another description of Salim’s performance from The Glasgow Observer read.
Abdul Salim, Celtic’s Indian International trialist, tickled the crowd at Celtic Park on Friday with his magnificent ball manipulation. In his bare feet he was a conspicuous figure but this was further emphasised by his dark skin against the white and green of the Celtic strip. His play was top class. Every ball he touched went exactly to the place he wanted it to. Not one inch was it out. His crosses into goal were simply shrieking to be nodded into the net. I wouldn’t like to have calculated the score had McGrory been playing ….. [Danny] Dawson missed a penalty kick which Salim, despite the invitation of Alex Millar, refused to take.
But despite the impression he made on the fans, on Willie Maley and [eventually] the Scottish press, Salim’s stay in Glasgow was brief. Just a week after his two trial matches he began to feel homesick, also wishing to return for the start of the league season in Calcutta. He refused Maley’s offer to sign him as a professional ahead of the 1936/37 season. Celtic held a charity match for their subcontinental idol with him receiving 5% of the gate. Forever humble, Salim refused to take the money and insisted that it instead be given elsewhere. It was no small sum — £1800 — which is more than £128,000 in 2019.
Although his stay in Glasgow was brief, Celtic remained in the Indian Jugglers heart for the rest of his days and, unbeknownst to him, Celtic did not forget him either.
When Salim’s son contacted Celtic to inform them of his father’s ill health, Celtic sent the family of the ailing man a bank draft of £100 [£432 today]
His son was stunned, admitting that he was not asking for money, he was merely getting in touch with the club thinking they would not remember his father. He never cashed the bank draft, opting instead to frame it as a memento of, to him, the club’s unforeseen love and affection for his father all those years later.
