The first black player to play for Celtic was Gil Scott-Heron’s Dad

The first black player to play for Celtic was Gill Scott-Heron’s Dad.

We s*** you not.

The actual, real-life Gill Scott-Heron.

You know, the self-proclaimed ‘bluesologist’ who brought us The Revolution Will Be Televised and was partial to a bit of jazz flute.

Mmm nice.

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Here’s how it went down.

Gil’s old man (also Gil) was spotted by Celtic scouts, when they were touring North America back in 1951, and quickly snapped him up after he negotiated his way through a successful trial spell.

He thus became simultaneously the first black player ever to play for Celtic and the first black man in Scotland ever to earn a living from football.

In what is probably the most bizarre journey to Celtic Park in history, Heron was born in Kingston Jamaica in 1922.

From there he joined the Canadian Air Force during the Second World War before eventually settling down in Detroit, where he became something of a star striker in the North American Soccer League.

Yee-haw.

He was playing for the rather brilliantly named Detroit Wolverines, who won the inaugural title with Gil as top scorer.

That’s when Celtic made their move and a public trial coined for him two very 1950s nicknames.

The Black Arrow and The Black Flash.

We’re guessing he was quick.

So Heron upped sticks from Michigan to Lanarkshire, leaving three-year-old Gil Jr behind with mother Bobbie.

He made his debut against Morton in the Scottish Cup.

That’s a Jamaican fighter pilot, fresh out of the Motor City, playing against Morton in the Scottish Cup.

You couldn’t make this up. And we haven’t (check his wikipedia page if you don’t believe us).

Sadly the fairytale couldn’t last and Heron made just five appearances in total for Celtic, moving on to first Third Lanark, then Kidderminster Harriers, before returning to the States to finish his career with Detroit Corinthians.

Heron, who like his son dabbled in jazz and poetry, died in 2008 at the age of 86, just three years before his son.

But his memory lives on as something of a Celtic legend.

And fans of his son’s music even used to turn up to his gigs in green and white hoops.

If this isn’t one of the more bizarre stories you read today, you’re obviously just a bit weird.