No wonder he's a Happy Gilmour! He's shared a ring with some of boxing's greats and now the rich and riotous story of Tommy Gilmour is set to hit the stage

There is an air of mischief about Tommy Gilmour. But it should never be mistaken for childish naivete.

When it is pointed out that he has shared the ring with Muhammad Ali, Sonny Liston and Sugar Ray Robinson, he replies: ‘How proud must they be.’

There is a pause, then a loud laugh. But this is a serious man, particularly in professional matters. 

The Gilmour story could be titled Dynasty and would fill the biggest screen. It is an extraordinary tale with a cast of the greatest sportsmen ever and generations of a Glasgow family who tell a compelling story in a distinctive accent.

It is transferring from the ring, from the bookies’ pitch, from the Glesca close to the stage. Haudin’ the Jaikets is to be premiered later this week.

This is the creation of Jim Orr, who brought such whimsical and entertaining plays as Bend it Like Brattbakk and Bend it like Bertie to adoring audiences.

‘I met Jim on a radio programme a few years back and he said he would like to do something on me because he had read my book,’ says Gilmour. 

‘I said that it would be a privilege, He came up with a script and it was supposed to be put on a couple of years ago but the pandemic hit. It is comedic.’

But, like Gilmour, it has an important story to tell. It was originally planned to premier on the 30th anniversary of Pat Clinton winning the world flyweight title at Kelvin Hall.

 The fight was promoted by Gilmour, who also managed the boxer from Croy.

‘It doesn’t get better than that,’ says Gilmour. ‘It can’t. Promoting a world title fight in your own city and being at the side of the champion…’

But for all the obvious power of such a triumph, the Gilmour story has threads that pull together a wonderful tapestry of how Glasgow was in the 20th century and what made it special. 

The leading characters in this extraordinary tale are Jim Gilmour, the Auld Yin, his son, Thomas, the Starmaker, and his son, Tommy. ‘I suppose you would call me the Pretender,’ says the third in line to the Gilmour crown with another of his trademark laughs. All three are expected to feature in Haudin’ the Jaikets.

The Gilmour story, at least in Glasgow and world boxing terms, starts with Jim, a lightweight who was a British champion and fought in the 1920 Olympics. His son, Tommy Sr, managed his first fighter at 14 and went on to become a bookie, boxing promoter and manager. His son, Tommy Jr, took the family name to the top of the world.

He stepped into this world with a quiet certainty. ‘It didn’t really mean much then,’ says Gilmour of the days when he carried the ring cards for such as Ali, Liston and the original Sugar Ray. ‘This was my dad’s business and I just met these people. That was the way it was. I met such as Kid Gavilan too and had a blether with him in Miami.’

He chuckles again in remembrance of meeting the Cuban legend but points out: ‘Boxing was a small world then, you know.’

It was inhabited by huge personalities. One was undoubtedly Gilmour’s father. It is 100 years since Tommy Sr managed his first fighter. His son carries the lessons of this life.

‘In later years, I would promote fights and have arguments with him about how much fighters would be paid. He would always say: “You only know because I telt ye.”’

This was a reference to the debt owed by son to father in terms of experience. But it was no gilded apprenticeship. Gilmour Jr achieved his corner licence at 18 and his inheritance from his father was rich in lessons though short on silver spoons.

The life of a bookie and boxing manager could be precarious. The Gilmours did fly in jets when that was something to be remarked upon and did sail in Transatlantic liners but when The Starmaker passed there was no great financial bounty to be divided.

The Gilmour Dynasty had shown the road but Tommy Jr had to make his own path.

THERE is a period in Tommy Gilmour’s life that has escaped deep examination. His 20 years working as a printing engineer might not hold the same allure as mixing with the greats or promoting world champions. It is, though, central to any understanding of his gifts or character.

Gilmour worked full-time while trying to make his way as manager and promoter and he did so for two decades. This testifies to his tenacity, his dedication and his aptitude for hard graft. His jump into full-time boxing did not have a substantial safety net. One has to be brave to walk into a ring but courage exists on its fringes too.

The Clinton fight was the boldest of moves. Gilmour had to negotiate with the handlers of Isidro Perez. The softest thing about these guys was their teeth. The Oatlands boy prevailed in the negotiations after turning over a table in anger.

He also made his own luck. The Clinton fight saw boxing in Britain enter the age of sponsorship. Carpets firms, brewers and the BBC were all cajoled into backing the event, setting a template for all future promotions.

‘That was all fresh then,’ he says. ‘We even had to work out what would be best in terms of size of logo to fit the TV cameras.’

If Clinton at the Kelvin Hall was his signature moment, there were many other memorable occasions, particularly his acquisition of the St Andrew’s Sporting Club more than 40 years ago and its subsequent transformation into one of the most significant venues on these isles.

He sold up 10 years ago. ‘I was running out of ideas,’ he says. ‘I was 62 and I felt it needed fresh people. Iain (Wilson) has come in and taken it forward.’

The step back from the boxing ring was accompanied by a walk to the oche, at least in business terms. Gilmour has managed world champions in both boxing and darts. 

Gary Anderson at Alexandra Palace in 2015 and 2016 followed Clinton at the Kelvin Hall in 1992.

‘It is really Stephanie’s business,’ he says of his daughter. ‘I just help her out. She is not a wee lassie, you know. She has a degree in business studies and knows darts and the people in it inside out.’

His link to darts was forged by his friendship with Barry Hearn, with whom he has worked for decades in boxing promotions.

‘I signed up a Danish darts player the other week,’ says Gilmour. ‘I was sitting with him at an event and I think he was surprised to be told by me that I didn’t know anything about darts. But I did tell him: “I know how to make money”.’

Again, the chuckle cannot disguise the innate seriousness of that statement.

‘There is another wee link to Denmark,’ he says. ‘My grandfather beat the Danish champion. In those days, there was the tradition that if you beat the champion of the country then you took that title. It was like in old Glasgow, if you beat a guy in the close, you were the champion of the close. So my grandad was the champion of Britain and Denmark.’

Of course, Auld Jim was. It is the Gilmour way. There were always more wins than losses for the dynasty. And there is always a great story either way.

l Haudin’ the Jaikets by Jim Orr will be staged at Websters Theatre, Glasgow on Friday and Saturday (April 19, 20)