'My career and life have been a major let down,' admits a regretful Andy Ritchie

IT WAS the Scottish Cup in 1981 and Andy Ritchie scored a wonder goal. Playing for Morton he turned Aberdeen's Willie Miller and Alex McLeish inside out before shooting past Jim Leighton. It dumped Alex Ferguson's Pittodrie side out the competition and although the enraged manager stormed out of the post-match press conference, refusing to relive it, others have been happy to do so for almost three decades.

Ritchie isn't necessarily one of them, though. For him it is a flash of light among the gloom because he knows there "could have and should have" been more moments like that. "There's that old adage that ability will always be beaten by hard work if ability doesn't work hard enough," he says.

Having started out under Jock Stein at Celtic Park, his lack of dedication and his possession of an attitude he now fully recognises as unprofessional led to too many run-ins with the legendary manager and blocked his pathway to greater success. At Morton he became a Cappielow legend but he knows that was a fraction of the accolades he could have earned. A wonderful raconteur, it's only when he contemplates his own failings that his outlook becomes almost mournful. Watching him struggle to contain his emotions as the disappointment corrodes like an acid within, it might have been better if he had never really twigged.

But he did which is why, while he once struggled with demons such as drink, drugs and destructive thinking, more recent battles have been with depression.

There must be some consolation in knowing that people who witnessed his moments of genius knew they had been fortunate to see a true football player, someone says. His mood as he considers his response suggests not.

"A little. But, when I look back on it now, through a cloud or through the mist, I know I only achieved 50 per cent of what I could have achieved and that's always in my mind."

There is an attempt at more consoling words, after all one man's 50 per cent is better than another man's 100 per cent. He can't make eye contact as he swallows back the emotion and composes himself. "I can't speak for anyone else but they are probably sitting in their house today knowing that they gave their career 100 per cent and that's the best they could do, I never gave it 100 per cent so it's not the best I could do. The fleeting moments you are talking about gradually fade back into the distance but I'm left with the regrets and the knowledge that I could have, should have, achieved more. It wasn't anybody else's fault. Others can paint as many pictures in their mind as they want but I have to live with that."

Yet, the likes of McLeish talk of his audacity, and his artistry. "Players were always that terrified of Andy nutmegging them that they would shut their legs but then he curled it round them. He had such a good footballing brain, he sussed things like that. He had scored one from 50 yards and he was in his own half, nobody near him and he shouted 'Big Yin, ye'd better pick me up, I'll probably score from here'. We're talking 60-70 yards but I was thinking, 'he's got a point, I'd better get across!'"

Such was his ability, even as a part-time player with Morton, he was the top goalscorer in the country aged 22 and was named Scottish player of the year in 1979. Yet he had a shift tarring the roads that day, and only completed his work a few hours before the awards ceremony.

His tale is well-documented in the new book Flawed Genius – Scottish Football's Self-Destructive Mavericks by journalist Stephen McGowan and details his aversion to training, the love of drinking and partying and the consequences for his career. "They say that things that come easy are easy given away," he says. "At 14/15 I never thought about being a football player. I played with the school and local teams but my whole life changed one Sunday at Cumbernauld when I went to play a trial game as a stand-in for somebody who didn't want to go. It was a Middlesbrough trial and I played for half an hour and then they took me off. But after the game they said they wanted me to go down to Middlesbrough. Manchester United were there as well, and Celtic were there and Rangers were in my house by the time I got back. I had all these places, Coventry, Tottenham Hotspur...."

He chose Celtic and still it came easy. At Celtic boys club he grabbed more than a century of goals, before being farmed out to junior side Kirkintilloch Rob Roy where he added a further 36 goals in 14 games. That forced Celtic to recall him. He went straight into the reserves and two weeks before his 17th birthday, he made his first team debut. The talent was there, it was the application that was absent and after locking horns with Stein time and again, he ultimately swaggered down the path of least resistance.

"I would swap anything to have been a top class player at Celtic Park. I wanted to play and be a success at Celtic but I just got lost in the turmoil at that time. I never got a game and people came in and jumped the queue and instead of knuckling down and working a bit harder, I took the easy way out."

There have been a lot of regrets to absorb. In the book, the SPL match delegate describes both his career and his life as "a major let-down, not only to me but to many others as well." Yet there are memories others will treasure and, whether they console him in his private moments or not, there is plenty to be proud of. Stories from his life are a collection of football travels, with big names taking starring roles and a series of wonderful achievements making cameo appearances.

During Tommy Burns' managerial reign at Celtic, Ritchie returned to where it had all begun. As chief scout he was the man responsible for bringing Jorge Cadete, Paolo Di Canio, Pierre van Hooijdonk and Mark Viduka to Glasgow. It is a time in his life he does take pride in, a second chance to give 100 per cent at Celtic albeit in a non-playing capacity. That's why it hurt when, after serving the scouting needs of Burns, Jo Venglos and Wim Jansen, he was ousted during the Kenny Dalglish era.

"The first time (as a player] I left Celtic, I chose to leave. The second time it was a decision taken for me so that was harder to take. If it was up to me I would still be there bringing in players to Celtic Park, players they could sell for more money than it cost to bring them in and who could play."

With the transfer window now open Ritchie understands the importance of getting the right players in at Parkhead. He is lined up to take on a scouting role with Stockport County and he knows how easily the injection of flair can stimulate a support when passion is waning. "My time with Tommy Burns was a bit like that. we knew the type of players we wanted and there was a new stadium being built and 60,000 people would be there and we had to get their arse up off their seats every so often."

To that end, he identified Georgi Kinkladze. The 5m price proved the ultimate deterrent but Ritchie says there are still bargains out there waiting to be unearthed, provided you know what you're looking for and are prepared to travel in search of them.

"I remember looking at a list of 10 players that I had once and by the time we got round to doing something about it, they had all gone somewhere else."

Ones that got away include Hidetoshi Nakata. In 1998 he was a serious target. Ritchie had him earmarked having been to watch him serval times. Jansen wanted him, the player was keen and a 1m fee was agreed. The marketing potential in bringing one of the first Asian players into Europe was immense. But, he motions, it went over the Celtic board's head. they dragged their heels and the club lost out. "Two months after we made enquires, he dyed his hair red, went to the 98 World Cup and every bugger in the world knew who he was then."

Van Hooijdonk was pinpointed in a video sent out by agents, with Earnie Stewart the intended subject matter. "Me and Tommy Burns sat in the office with a big pot of tea and a couple of packs of Jaffa Cakes watching it and I remember saying that big black boy is running out of ways of scoring goals, right foot, left foot, head, free kicks, penalty kicks." He followed up and Fergus McCann paid the required 1m. "And a pal of mine in Italy told me about Di Canio. He said: 'You'll love him, he's fantastic and your supporters will love him but your manager will hate him after about six or seven months!' He was right enough."

Then there was Cadete. He came courtesy of Sir Bobby Robson. "It was after the Barcelona game at Celtic Park and we were all milling about in the office. He asked what I did and I told him I was the chief scout. He asked what kind of players I was looking for and I said that wee boy (Ivan] De La Pena and if they fancied selling him I'd take him off their hands! It was idle chit chat and he said: 'What else?' I said I could do with a front player. Before he left he came across and in his hand was a bit of paper with the name Jorge Cadete on it! We made enquiries and he became available."

These are more Ritchie moments that others treasure but he denies himself unbridled gratification. "I don't think any scout would look at those players, hold their hands up and say that was a difficult job. A blind man on a galloping horse could see those boys could play!"

People could see that about Ritchie the player as well, but while he will argue he failed to fully deliver on the pitch, off it, more than two decades on, he did everything but tie a ribbon on the talent he presented the Celtic faithful at a time when they were most in need of it. For those deeds, he should have few regrets.