Another Pleasant Valley Sunday

OK – I DON'T suppose it would take the wit and wisdom of a great defence lawyer, such as the fictional Perry Mason or the wonderful Alan Shore of Boston Legal's Crane, Poole and Schmidt to get them off; so, charging the respective clubs with replaying the War which followed “The Glorious Revolutioon” of 1689 would be beyond even those masters of useless, expensive and time-wasting Court time, the SNP-led Scottish Government.

The High Heid Yins of Rangers and Celtic are not to blame for Bigotry and Sectarianism in Scotland, it's a bit more widely ingrained than in their fan base, but, it suits “The Suits” to ignore “Scotland's Not-So Secret Shame” - the bile and invective and rake-in the cash at the turnstiles and the club shops.

The late, great Ian Archer got the Rangers support in one, 50 years ago now. They may have calmed down a bit in the intervening years, but, The Bears' ability to shite in the streets of Glasgow, if not in thr woods, was again demonstrated on Sunday.

On the other side of the coin, Celtic's Green Brigade have their moments when you realise, there is intelligent thought there, but, at other times, they can match any degree of silliness across the city. I get the distinct impression, neither club has a Scooby what they should do about these young and ultra-commited fans.

Now, I may be wrong in blaming these twa cheeks o' the same erse for causing Sunday's shite-show in the city centre, but, the fact the loonies seen running wild were all dressed alike, does indicate a degree of fore-thought – laced with an incredulous: “What were they thinking” - other than “We're untouchable.”

I missed most of the match, due to a family commitment, switching-on in time to see time added-on, the half hour of official Extra Time and the penalty shoot-out. Now, we all know this is a flawed Rangers team which still needs work. But, given how his team eventually won, I feel Mr Desmond should be having a word with his underlings – he is clearly not getting value for money for the millions of Euros he has invested in his squad.

The irony, of course, is that the mainly-Scottish followers who yearn to be Irish, have more Scots to support than the mainly Scottish follow-followers who yearn to be English have, just another part of the madness of this fixture.

Of course, the use of pyrotechnics was again pounced upon by the remnants of our mainstream media, a branch of Scottish life which, like the decision-makers within football governance, is quite happy to wring their hands and moan about Old Firm misbehaviour – just don't expect them to do anything concrete about it.

Sectarianism and Bigotry is not “Scotland's Secret Shame” - because it hasn't been a secret for at least my life-time, if not a lot longer. Scottish Football's Secret Shame is the fact, these two clubs are out of control, just as they have been for more than the last 100 years, and Scottish Football is not prepared to bring them to heel.

When you see the Green Brigade or the Union Bears putting-on one of their orchestrated displays before and during games, you have to accept, it's all being done with some degree of acknowledgement from the clubs – so there has to be, even via the back-door, some sort of conversation between fans group and club. Well then, make the clubs responsible for the behaviour of their fans.

It's the same with doling-out away tickets, you are never going to get all the Old Firm season ticket holders, or official supporters club members into any other other ten Premiership grounds; so a system has to be in-place to get the smaller allocation of tickets distributed.

The clubs have to know, which fans group has which tickets, so, if ther are problems of bad behaviour, then it will not require the deductive powers of an Inspector Morse or Lieutenant Columbo to find out which particular fans group or supporters club, the neds belong to – deny that group tickets until behaviour improves and the bad apples are removed, and, in time, the problem goes away.

All it would take is the will to do it. I knew there would be a problem.

As for the game itself. Apart from the bit I watched live, and the goal flashes seen on the TV News, I didn't see enough to give a full critique. In Extra Time, both sides were playing not to make a mistake and hoping to win it on penalties. Nothing I saw changed my view, these are two not very good Old Firm teams, playing some poor football.

Eight of the nine penalties were well-struck; the badly-hit one was saved. But, as a young goalkeeper, I studied my part in penalties and had a pretty-good record of saving them, albeit at a far-lower level than a national cup final.

Watching the penalties on Sunday, I knew, even before the kick was taken, where the ball was going. If I could work that out, why did Jack Butland in particular guess wrong so often? Doesn't he, or his club, do due diligence on possible penalty takers, the information is out there?

Both teams would also, I feel, benefit from ditching the badge-kissing imports and giving a chance to native talent. Celtic have, at the moment, the “Fans on the Park” who dig that bit deeper. With John Souttar absent, Rangers are missing such an animal and they will win nothing until they get some back in the team on a regular basis.

Of course, that same advice about badge-kissers also holds good for the rest of our top-flight teams.

 

Socrates' Thursday night TV Review

IN THE BYGONE Days of Yore, so beloved of the Ibrox faithful, if you worked in Journalism at the creative end, 'Fleet Street' was your goal. If you had the ability and drive to get there, the world was your lobster. Back then, many of the top operators along the Street of Shame were displaced Scots, bringing the benefits of the exceptional Scottish education system to bear in educating and informing the natives and the world.

In the “Comic” section of the newspapers, the sports pages at the back, Scottish voices there were, but, the English writers, more-so when, as regularly happened for the first century of organised Football, Scotland were beating England, there arose the cult of the English getting their excuses in early.

Football, like most of the world, has changed, but, last after night's “Battle of Britain” between Rangers and Tottenham Hotspur showed one eternal fact, when the English team fails to win such an encounter – the English Press always has their excuses ready.

In reality, a meeting of the fifth-best team from a city state of 9 million people, currently sitting eleventh in a league with a value of £8 billion and the second-best team in a national league with a value of just over £300 million should only end one way.

Restrict your comparison to the two clubs involved and the difference is just as stark: Tottenham is valued at £2.6 billion, Rangers at £150 million. The result ought to be a comfortable win for the English side.

But, football is played on a pitch, not a balance sheet and, on the night, Rangtrs were the better side, who really ought to have won. However, as this blog has been pointing-out for ages, this is not a good Rangers squad. There are players wearing the famous jersey who are not Rangers class.

And, for all their huge transfer fees and the mega salaries they pick-up as players in the English Premiership, there were players on-show on Thursday night who are simply not Tottenham Class. There weren't Greaves, Blanchflower, Mackay, White, Hoddle, Ardiles or Bale-like figures in white on that pitch.

Those who were there, escaped with a draw and should be grateful; the best performance from a Spurs man on the night came from Glenn Hoddle, who, alongside the equally-excellent Ally McCoist, delivered a master-class in the art of the television colour commentator – they, alongside match caller Darren Fletcher, added to the entertainment value of the night.

The entire TNT team did well, a word too for Peter Crouch and Alan Hutton on the less-glamarous pitch-side gig.

I have thought this season, Rangers have played a lot better in Europe, where there is less expectation on them; they do not seem to be as tense as in domestic games, where there is pressure to keep winning and keep pressurising the other lot. But, they have set their benchmark this week, and they've got less than 72 hours in which to recover and redirect their focus on beating that other lot in the Premier Sports League Cup Final, at Hampden, on Sunday afternoon.

It's a big ask. However, while Celtic has 48 more hours of recovery time, on the evidence of the two European games this week, maybe Rangers are in a slightly-better place going into Sunday.

Which side settles first could prove crucial, but, it is already building-up to be yet another Old Firm Classic.

However, to return to Thursday Night. Last time these clubs crossed swords in Europe, back 60 years and 1 day ago, the football landscape was a lot different:

• All 22 players on the pitch were British

• Rangers fielded an all-Scottish line-up

• Tottenham fielded: five Englishmen, three Scots, two Welshmen and one Northern Irishman

On Thursday night, in a “Battle of Britain”, British players were in the minority, but it was still an old-fashioned “British” cup tie, more blood and thunder than guile and silky passing – and all the more-enjoyable for that. It was also, it has to be said, very-well managed by a referee and his team who had a great feel for the game on the night – the actions of the third team on the park is often overlooked in a general review of a match and Referee Sandro Scharär and his Swiss team on Thursday were excellent.

Just one thing, and it's a pet hate of mine about modern football. I bet there were more back passes in one half on Thursday night than in the two legged tie back in 1962. It does my head in to see a team, some 30 yards from the opposition goal, suddenly turn round and play the ball back to their own goalkeeper in an attempt to draw-out the opposition and create space.

If it was up to me, Football would join Basketball and insist, once you cross half-way with the ball, you cannot play it back into your own half. Such a law change would encourage individual skill, beating an opponent, and attacking play. But, I don't expect FIBA – the law-making body of FIFA, to advocate this change anytime soon.

If you want to know how well Rangers did on Thursday, by the way, reflect on this – The Online Guradian is not allowing btl comments on their report, always a sign of a bad night at the office for an English side against one of the Celtic Cousins.

IN CASE you thought I forgot, there was another Scottish club in European action on Thursday, with Hearts losing in Copenhagen in the Conference League.

This was a hard watch, I never at any time thought Hearts had a chance of winning. That said, the penalty they lost to was the sort of award I thought we only ever saw given to the home team at Ibrox or Celtic Park in a domestic Scottish game – a “genuine mistake” that was never a penalty in the history of football.

OK I have been hard on this Rangers squad this season, but, having watched Hearts a few times in Europe this season, I am convinced, pro-rata, theyt have wasted more money on badge-kissing third-rate imports than even Rangers.

The quicker we impose an “Eight Diddies Rule” and have Scottish footballers playing for Scottish clubs, the better for the game up here.

 

Socrates Gets All Nostalgic

A PARTIAL LINE from “The Celtic Song': “If you know their history” came to mind as I read the Online Guardian on Saturday morning. Barney Ronay one of their football writers was waxing lyrical about the sudden emergence of wide players able to dribble and run at defences at speed.

Young Master Ronay, of course, belongs to that school of football writers who thinks the game of Association Football was invented in 1992, with the establishment of the English Premiership. Nothing which happened in the game for the 128 years before that – England winning the World Cup in 1966, Celtic winning the European Cup a year later, Liverpool's dominance of Europe under Bob Paisley, seemingly as relevant to Ronay and Co as the Roman occupation of Britain, the Norman Invasion, The Wars of the Roses, The Jacobite Risings and The Hanoverian Succession.

I began with the Hoops, so I now return there. Ronay is probably unaware that Defcon 1 in the Celtic manual of how to get out of a bit of opposition pressure in a European game was: “Gie the ba' tae Jinky and let him take it for a walk.”

The rest of the team knew, if they got the ball to Jimmy Johnstone, he was more than capable of holding on to it for a couple of minutes, driving three or four opponents to dizzy uselessness, until one of them fouled him and Celtic could, with the free kick, move 50 yards upfield. If that failed, they could always play it out to the left and allow Bobby Lennox to out-pace most defenders in another downfield run.

Fast wingers, able to dribble at pace, have long been a staple of the British game: Sir Stanley Matthews and Sir Tom Finney from England, Gordon Smith, and Alan Morton from Scotland, Billy Bingham and George Best from Northern Ireland and Cliff Jones and Leighton James from Wales, to pick just a few random examples.

What, one wonders, would such brilliant players have been able to do on today's pristine pitches, with the lightweight balls and equipment enjoyed by today's so-called stars. Or, to turn it around, how would today's big names cope with a sodden wet leather Thomson T-Ball, on a virtual ploughed field such as the old Baseball Ground?

They are never going to commission a statue of Phil Foden emerging from a virtual lake with the ball, as with the famous “Splash” statue of Tom Finney.

Football folklore tells us, Sir Alf Ramsey adopted his 4-3-3 “Wingless Wonders” formation, which won England the World Cup in 1966, as a kickback for the horrible afternoons he experienced at the hands of such Scottish wing wizards as Barnsley's Johnny Kelly – a childhood hero of Sir Michael Parkinson – and Liverpool's Billy Liddell.

Of course, the key moment in England's win over West Germany came when Alan Ball went on an old-fashioned run down the right, before crossing for Roger Hunt to score that wrongly-allowed third goal.

That's the trouble with modern football, coaches seem to be forbidding wingers from doing wingers' things. When last did you see a winger drop the shouilder, go round the outside of the full-back, hit the by-line and cross? It's like a hurricane in Hertfordshire – it hardly ever happens. Today's wide men invariably are on the “wrong” side – left-footers down the right and vice versa, encouraged to cut in on their good foot at every opportunity.

Some players such as Arsenal's Bukayo Saka or Rangers' Vaclav Cerny do this really well, but, I would suggest, the occasional reversion to old-fashioned ways, by going round the outside, would make even these fine players better.

THIS WEEK'S big match in Scotland will be Thursday night's “Battle of Britain” between Rangers and Tottenham Hotspur in the Europa League. It's a big game all right, as these cross-border clashes always are, and it will be particularly important for the Spurs'Manager. Losing to “The Jocks” just might be the end for Ange in North London.

This clash got me remembering the two clubs' first meeting in Europe, in the old European Cup-Winners Cup, back in the early 1960s. I was at college in Glasgow at the time and the tickets went on sale in the legendary and much-missed St Vincent Street shop: “The Sportsman's Emporium”. I got off my bus into ther city at Waterloo Street Bus Station, at 8.45am, joined the rear of the queue, which was stretching half-way down the Central Station frontage of Hope Street, and, by 10.30am, I had my two tickets for the game.

In truth, the game was a bit of a “dead rubber” - that legendary Tottenham team of all the talents: Scotland goalkeeper Bill Brown, England centre-half Maurice Norman, one-third of maybe the best British half-back line of all time, along with Captain Danny Blachflower and oor ain Dave Mackay; there was no relief up front, with John “The Ghost” White, Jimmy Greaves, Bobby Smith and wonderful wingers Terry Medwin and Cliff Jones had thrashed Rangers 5-2 in the first leg at White Hart Lane.

The Rangers' team they thumped wasn't a bad outfit: Billy Ritchie; Bobby Shearer, Eric Caldow; Harold Davis, Ronnie McKinnon, Jim Baxter; Willie Henderson, Ian McMillan, Jimmy Millar, Ralph Brand and Davie Wilson.

Trailing 2-5 from the first leg, the second leg, for Rangers, was all about saving face. The game was called-off on the first due date, due to thick fog, but a week later, on 11 December, 1962, over 78,000 rolled into Ibrox, most hoping for a miracle.

That hope lasted a mere eight minutes, before Greaves made the aggregate score 6-2 to the visitors. That was the only goal of the first half. Ralph Brand equalised early in the second half, only for Smith to restore Tottenham's advantage on the night. Rangers weren't done, however and Davie Wilson scored a second equaliser. However, in the last minute, Smith scored again to give the visitors the victory and an 8-4 aggregate win.

The Press, as ever, went with the obvious and Smith's two goals as the highlight; but, for me, the big thing from the game was the way you hardly noticed John White, until he played the killer passes for two of the goals. His death, less than a year later, was a terrible blow to Scottish football.

Tottenham went on to win the competition that season. That was a very-special team. I don't know what will happen on Thursday, but one thing I do know, neither of the present-day squads from the two clubs has even a portion of the talent available to the two clubs 62 years ago.

Revenge - A Dish Best Served Cold

THE LATE, GREAT HUGHIE TAYLOR'S piece on Rangers' first European campaign, in his Scottish Football Annual, number four I think, had a great deal to do with me wanting to become a Sports Writer. Kilmarnock's finest's tale of how the Fans With Typewriters adjusted to this new world of European travel over three incident-filled games, really captured my imagination.

Little did I then know, for instance, that I would later be by-lined on the same page as Hughie, who I was pleased to call a friend and mentor, but, I too, would know the relief of having Tommy McGhee, name-checked as Hughie's copy-taker as he telephoned in his report from Nice, saving my arse in similar circumstances, some 30 years later, in the days before lap tops and the world-wide web.

These thoughts crossed my mind last night, as, Courtesy of TNT Sports, I watched Rangers crush Nice 4-1 in their latest Europa League game. Now, I cannot really comment on the relative merits of the Nice team of 1956 and the shower which Rangers took apart last week – after adopting that Ibrox classic: “The cry was no defenders”. I do however, in my mind, know that Niven; Shearer, Caldow; McColl, Young, Logie; Scott, Simpson, Murray, Baird, Hubbard, the first Rangers XI to venture into Europe, was a better team than the one which won so-easily on Thursday night.

Older Rangers fans still insist, their team was kicked off the park back in 1956 – Thursday night's win showed, Revenge truly is a dish best served cold.

Yes, it was a very-good win, but, they were playing nobody and probably left three or four goals out there. The squad which Philippe Clement has assmebled is probably better-suited to playing a counter-attacking “European” brand of football than it is the Charge of the Light Blue Brigade style demanded by their fans against the diddy teams they face in Scotland. There are still, however, several players in the present-day squad who are quite clearly Not Rangers Class.

AT LEAST Rangers won. Hearts were woeful in falling to Cercle Brugge in their Europa Conference League game. Right from the off, I could only ever see one result, a home win. Hearts have one or two reasonable players, but, as with the Ibrox outfit, they are giving a wage to several players who are clearly not Hearts class.

When I was young, the DC Thomson school of comics: Adventure, Hotspur, Rover and Wizard were print comics, you had to read the stories, rather than gaze at comic strips.

I remember one about an eccentric millionaire football club owner, who built his team by kidnapping good players then transferring their skills to unknowns, who would immediately become superstars for his team.

OK, very far-fetched pre-Marvel stuff, but, watching Lawrence Shankland in Brugge, I was wondering if maybe that's what has happened to him. Right now, the Hearts' Captain cannot even buy a goal and it's tragic to watch him struggle.

However, I am sure, once he does get one into the net, the curse will be lifted and the goals will flow again.

I MENTIONED this on Facebook on Wednesday night, but, no harm in rehashing it. Wining the Scottish Cup in 1987 got St Mirren into the following season's European Cup-Winners Cup, where they went out to “Belgian Minnows” Mechelen.

The Buddies were roundly criticised in Scotland for losing to such an apparently weak team. Except, Mechelen went all the way to the final, where they beat Ajax to lift the trophy. As my old mucker Campbell Money is still insisting – Mechelen were a very-good team, losing to them was no disgrace.

Mind you, regardless of the fact they have a habit of beating us at international level, while Mechelen thumping St Mirren is not the only instance of a Belgian club knocking a Scottish one out of Europe, we Scots still appear to think the Belgians are not as good as us. Well Club Brugge knocked that one on the head at Celtic Park on Wednesday night.

I thought they were the better team on the night, but, well done to Celtic for coming back to earn a draw.

IT IS ONE THING to beat a virtual reserve team in Europe in midweek, quite another to limp past dire domestic opposition at the weekend, and that's the big problem facing this Rangers team at the moment. They really are a curate's egg of a team right now.

An old friend of mine, no longer with us, but happy to admit he was never more than a journeyman professional, even though he strutted his stuff in the old pre-Premiership English First Division, once told me this story.

He had been down South at a reunion of his old English side and the club's veteran kitman asked him: “What's gone wrong with Scottish football and Scottish footballers? You guys used to come down here, demanding the ball all the time in training and in games, influencing affairs, nowadays the Scots we get here don't appear to want the ball – they will run all day, but can no longer create.”

OK, there are gey few Scottish accents, or Scottish-reared players in the current Rangers team, but, otherwise, they exactly meet the critique of that old kit man. Yes, they generally pass the diddy teams off the park in domestic games, but, for me, a lot of the passing is a case of passing the buck.

Rangers have always had players who could play a killer pass; just from the guys I've seen: Jim Baxter (the best of them all), Ian McMillan, Bobby Russell, Ian Durrant, Derek Ferguson, Paul Gascoigne, to name but a few. None of the current lot comes remotely close to that level of invention.

And, at Perth, on Sunday, they were playing a St Johnstone team I would rate as no more than good Junior standard. I fear a long, hard winter for Ra Peepul. This league is now more than ever, Celtic's to lose.

Best-Ever Xis - The Eternal Argument

I HAVE NEVER considered myself a Sports Historian; yes, I enjoy looking into the rich history of ourt sporting landscape, it's an enjoyable pastime, but, I have never taken my interest in past glories seriously. Some fanatics can bore for Britain, arguing over Matthews v Finney and so forth, but, I lang syne accepted, when it comes to picking the Greatest XI or Greatest XV within whatever parameters, you will end up with as many selections as there are selectors – it has long been one of my core beliefs: opinions are like erse-holes, everybody has one.

So, when I saw the latest “Greatest Ever British Football XI” named on Facebook this week, I had to have a look. I was not impressed. For my money, about half of the names quoted ought not to even have been in the conversation. But, it got me thinking, what would be my XI of players from these islands? Here is the answer.

As a goalkeeper myself, who gets to wear the gloves is perhaps the easiest queston to answer – that position has to go to Gordon Banks. For me, there is no argument – England has had some superb goalkeepers, Frank Swift, Bert Williams, Peter Shilton and Ray Clemence, to name but four in my lifetime; but, for reasons othr than that save from Pele, I have to go with Banks.

I had to laugh at the selected full-backs: Gary Neville and Ashley Cole!!! Yer 'avin; a larf, nonentities the pair, I could name at least 20 England full-backs who were better than that pair, but none of these 20 make my team. Tempted though I was to go with the legendary Old Firm pairing of Sandy Jardine and Danny McGrain, I am going with legendary Manchester United Captain Johnny Carey and England World Cup winner Ray Wilson as my full backs.

I am actually going to line-up my team in 3-4-3 formation, so, I need a solid centre-back, for this role I have gone with the legendary Welshman – John Charles.

For my four midfielders, I have gone with two exceptional wide men, a midfield creator and a box-to-box engine for the team. My midfield lines-up: Stanley Matthews, Duncan Edwards, Jim Baxter and Tom Finney.

My three strikers will be expected to get goals, so I have gone with an excellent target man and two lightning-fast taker of penalty box chances. My front three are George Best, Tommy Lawton and Jimmy Greaves/Denis Law. I simply cannot decide between Greavesie and The Lawman: statistics favour Greaves, but, as he hiumself said: “If I have to pick a striker to score and save my life – I'm going with Denis” – can they play one half each?

So, my team in formation is: Gordon Banks (England); Johnny Carey (Republic of Ireland), John Charles (Wales), Ray Wilson (England); Sir Stanley Matthews, Duncan Edward (both England), Jim Baxter (Scotland), Sir Tom Finney (England); George Best (Northern Ireland), Tommy Lawton (England), Denis Law (Scotland) [first half], Jimmy Greaves (England) [second half].

I also cam up with a Reserve Team, in 4-4-2 formation, to give them a meaningful warm-up game, before they take on the Rest of the World. This team is: Neville Southall (Wales); Danny McGrain, Willie Woodburn (both Scotland), Billy Wright (England), Eric Caldow (Scotland); Jimmy Johnstone (Scotland), Danny Blanchflower (Northrn Ireland), Sir Bobby Charlton (England), Alan Morton (Scotland); Dixie Dean (England), Hughie Gallacher (Scotland).

I believe, were it possible to have everyone at the height of his powers, putting those two teams head-to-head would be quite a spectacle. I firmly believe, a Star in one era would be a Star in any era.

Now, about the Rest of the World opposition.

I was never a Lev Yashin fan, I still remember him being scared shitless by the physical threat of England's Derek Kevan during the 1958 World cup. So, for that reason, I will given the number one shirt to Italy's Gianluigi Buffon.

The back four will be an Axis Powers production – part Italian, part German, with former Scotland boss Berti Vogts on one wing, with the great Italian, Cesare Maldini on the opposite flank. In the middle of my back four – Der Kaiser – Franz Beckenbauer is pairted with Italy's Franco Baresi.

I am going with what many might see as a strange midfield quartet, but, on the basis, these guys could play anywhere, my selection is: Diego Maradona and Lionel Messi attacking from the flanks, with a third Argentinian – Alfredo di Stefano in central midfield, with another Real Madrid legend, Zinadine Zidane.

Up front, Pele will play, alongside Hungarian maestro Ferenc Puskas, in the first half, with Der Bomber – Gerd Muller taking over for the second half. I will keep the two Ronaldos and Johan Cruyff on the bench, just in case the British team is on top as the game nears its conclusion. Team then:

Gianluigi Buffon (Italy); Berti Vogts, Franz Beckenbauer (both Germany), Franco Baresi, Cesare Maldini (both Italy); Diego Maradona, Alfredo di Stefano (both Argentina), Zinadine Zidane (France), Lionel Messi (Argentina); Pele (Brazil), Ferenc Puskas (Hungary) [ first half], Gerd Muller (Germany) [second half].

Let the arguments begin.

 

Another Blast At The Blazers

I HAVE LONG held in contempt the decision makers to be found along the sixth-floor 'Corridor of Power' inside Hampden Park. They are the proud descendants of the butchers from Kilmarnock, the bakers from Kirkcaldy and the candle-stick makers from Dumfries who spent so-many years running Scottish Football into the ground.

But, fair's fair, they have, after over 150 years of international football, avoided long-held practices and kept faith with the current Scotland Head Coach. Now Stevie Clarke's job is not as much a case of holding a poisoned chalice as the same job with England. The Tartan Army of fans isn't like England's equaivalent congregation, described as “Barmy”. The average Terracing Tam knows, we've been shite at fitba for a long time, and is, unless of course he's one of the dwindling number inside Ibrox who still prefers to be Scottish rather than fake English, fully-aware that, even if we had peak of his powers Busby, Ferguson, Shankly or Stein in-charge, we would still struggle to get beyond being a “mid-table” international team.

Given the strength of opposition, finishing third in our group in the UEFA Nations League was still a good effort. We will discover on Friday where we go from here, with the draw for the Leagues A and B promotion-relegation play-off games, which will be played in late March, 2025.

I missed the win over Croatia on Friday night, but, from what I have heard, it was an old-style night of passion at Hampden, in which we maybe rode our luck a wee bit, before Super John McGinn's late winner sent the Tartan Army off home happy.

I did watch the game in Warsaw on Monday night and, if I had been a neutral, I would have thoroughly enjoyed it, two teams really having a go – a genuine old-fashioned cup tie of a match. We maybe won 2-1, but that game could well have finished 5-4 either way.

The Polish goal was “A Worldie”, while Andy Robertson's winner was probably the best goal scored by a Scottish full back, since John Greig's against Italy in 1965.

To be honest, this is not yet a great Scotland team, but, we have, when you look at those injured players unavailable at the moment, added quality we could bring in. We still need to build a central defensive pairing, we desperately need a reliable goal scorer up front and, longer term, we need to find a replacement for the seemingly ageless Craig Gordon, but, we have in the past got to World Cup finals with fewer resources. We definitely lack squad depth, but, that is improving.

LESS COMFORTING was the statistical piece which emerged at the end of last week, outlining the lack of opportunities being given to young Scottish players in our domestic game.

It was, of course, a Scot who opined: “You win nothing with kids”, but, when you see Celtic – the club which brought nine members of a European Cup-winning squad through the ranks at more or less the same time – adopting a management strategy of scouring the world for under-priced talent, to form a squad which is in Europe to make-up the numbers, in the hope of selling them on to lesser clubs playing in bigger leagues; well you have to wonder, why are they not pro-active in going back to the club's basics and promoting young Scots.

I remember speaking with the janitor at a Roman Catholic high school in a large Scottish town. In his youth, a good Junior with one of the top teams in that tier of football, he had run the school's football team for many years, sending a good number of boys into the adult game, with two of them winning Scotland Under-21 caps.

“I suppose I've done well as a talent spotter,” he admitted. “But, until I produce a boy who plays even one game in the Celtic first team, I'll consider myself a failure.” He was not alone in that view, across central Scotland, there were and probably still are, a lot of jannies and teachers at RC schools, whose aim in life is to provide even one boy for the cause.

In the other camp, another teaching contact, one of the main high heid yins in Schools Football for many years, sent a steady stream of youthful talent in the direction of Ibrox. None of them became Rangers Legends, but, quite a few got to wear the first team strip, while others didn't make the grade, but had good careers elsewhere in the Scottish game.

Scottish kids want to play football – but to keep encouraging them, we need to see Scottish players forming the bulk of the squads at Scottish clubs. We need to have a better player pathway, we need better coaching and until the high heid yins at Hampden sort these failings out, then for all the good work of the likes of Stevie Clarke, we will continue to be a pot two or pot three nation internationally.

We know the SPFL has the lowest “transition rate” of 16-year-old new recruits making it all the way through to the first team, of any league in Europe – I reckon if you look at how many of these new entrants are tossed aside after just one season, the “failures” proportion would be even higher. It's all about instant results, with decisions made too-hastily.

I think back to my old school, which used to have a good record in turning-out players of at least good Junior level. In one of my daughter's year, there were two players – the midfielder, even at 15, was clearly going to be a star. He played for Scotland Schools, went to a top English club, won age group honours and eventually 40-odd full caps.

The striker was generally on the bench at school, but the jannie, himself a former player who had graced the old pre-Premiership English First Division, saw something in the boy and encouraged him to keep going. He persuaded a top English club to take a punt on the kid, who made it through to play a couple of first-team games, before coming back up the road to play for half a dozen Scottish clubs and, along the way, win a few domestic medals and 26 full caps, with a more than decent scoring ration of 0.4 goals per game.

The schoolboy midfield prodigy was a sage punt, but, I would argue, the schoolboy striker had the greater work ethic. We Scots have always had to work harder for recognition, maybe it's time our clubs worked as hard as some of the kids, and had faith in Scottish talent. The results might surprise us all.

 

it's A Sair Fecht Wearing Number Nine Today

WHEN I WAS a boy, back in the 1950s and 1960s, football teams were laid-out in the time-honoured 2-3-5 formation: goalkeeper, right and left full-backs, right, centre and left half-backs, outside-right, inside-right, centre-forward, inside-left, outside-left. Today, in the final year of the first quarter of the 21^st century, those few newspapers who still print teams, still generally use this formation.

The reality is, even in the 1950s, British teams generally played in a loose 3-4-3 formation: goalkeeper, the two full-backs and the centre-half concentrated on defending, the two wing-halves and the two inside-forwards occupied the midfield, while the attacking threat generally came from the two wingers and the centre forward.

The great Hungarian team of the early 1950s mixed things up; centre-forward Nándor Hidegkuti may have worn the number nine shirt, but he was withdrawn to a more midfield role, alongside József Bozsik – providing chances for inside-forwards Ferenc Puskás and Sándor Kocsis to score (although this didn't prevent him from scoring a hat-trick against England in 1953).

Then, in 1958, in winning the World Cup, Brazil further modified formations, by introducing 4-4-2, which involved withdrawing one wing-half to form a double centre-half team, while the other wing-half and one of the inside-forwards took on the midfield creating roles.

The next evolution came with the introduction of the 4-3-3 formation: goalkeeper, two full-backs and two central defenders at the back, three midfielders and three forwards. Evolution continued until today we have seemingly infinite variations around a fairly common template – the flat back-four, five men in midfield and one lone striker.

Some clubs now go with three at the back, two holding midfielders, three attacking midfielders, a “False number nine” and the single front man, These changes perhaps demonstrate, in my life time we have gone from an emphasis on trying to score goals to win (five front-line players) to an emphasis on not losing (packing the back field).

It used to be said, every young boy wanted to be the centre-forward, the guy with the glamour job of scoring the goals. Today's wearers of the number nine shirt, while still expected to put the ball in the net with a degree of regularity, increasingly are being asked to run themselves into the ground against two or three defenders, with little help from his team-mates.

The record books tell us – since the first International, in 1872, 432 players have scored for Scotland in full internationals. In terms of goals scored, the top ten are:

1. Denis Law – 55 games – 30 goals – 0.55 goals per game and Kenny Dalglish – 102 games – 30 goals – 0.29 gpg

3. Hughie Gallacher – 20 games – 23 goals – 1.15 gpg

4. Lawrie Reilly – 38 games – 22 goals – 0.58 gpg

5. Ally McCoist – 61 games – 19 goals – 0.31 gpg

6. Kenny Miller – 68 games – 18 goals – 0.28 gpg

7. John McGinn – 71 games – 18 goals – 0.25 gpg

8. Robert Hamilton – 11 games – 15 goals – 1.38 gpg

9. RS McColl – 13 games – 13 goals – 1.00 gpg

10. Andy Wilson – 12 games – 13 goals – 1.08 gpg

Eight of those top ten goal scorers were out and out strikers, but, it is striking that only five of the ten met the long-established benchmark for an international-class striker – scoring at a rate of above 0.5 goals per game, or, a goal every-other game.

Using this benchmark, since the end of WWII, 19 players have beaten that mark in full internationals for Scotland. Aside from Law and Reilly, these players and their gpg averages are: Harry Morris – 3.00 gpg; Charlie Fleming – 2.00 gpg; Joe Harper – 1.40 gpg; Bobby Flavell, Alex Linwood, Hugh Howie, Alfie Conn Senr, Sir Alex Ferguson – all1.00 gpg; George Hamilton – 0.80 gpg; Alex Young – 0.63 gpg; Bobby Johnstone 0.59 gpg; Jimmy Mason 0.57 gpg; Jackie Mudie 0.53 gpg; Colin Stein 0.52 gpg; Alan Gilzean, Mark McGhee and Ted MacDougall – all 0.50 gpg.

Thirteen of these nineteen players were centre-forwards, which emphasises how putting the ball in the net is still seen as the primary task of the man in the number nine shirt, but, we should perhaps accept, the switch to a back four and twin centre halves has made his job that bit harder.

Five of the 19 are also members of Scotland's far from exclusive One-Cap Wonders Club,which says much about how inconsistent and arbitgrary were the decisions of the old SFA Selection Committee.

The last Scotland striker to hit the 0.50 gpg target was Mark McGhee, who won the last of his four Scotland caps 40 years ago. Whilst, of those with more than a single cap, statistically, Scotland's best post-war goalscorer has been Joe Harper, whose average of 1.40 gpg probably merited him winning more than his five caps.

Thus we should perhaps be rewriting the rules for gauging a striker's worth. Might it be time to recalibrate the benchmark downwards, to perhaps 0.25 or 0.3 gpg, to better reflect the realities of the modern game.

In which case, are we maybe being a bit hard on Rangers' Cyrille Dessers, who has copped some flak for not scoring more than one goal in Thursday night's draw with Olimpiacos, in Athens; or Lawrence Shankland, who failed to find the net in Hearts' home loss to German side Heidenheim the same night.

This pair went head-to-head in the SPL on Sunday, with Dessers coming out on top by scoring the only goal of the game, leaving Shankland ever-deeper in the sort of Couldnae hit a coo on the erse wi' a banjo goals drought which occasionally strikes all but the absolutely elite strikers.

It's a sair fecht wearing the number nine jersey in Scotland today; but, somehow, as a former goalkeeper, I'm rather relishing their discomfort.