A Kiss Fae Pele - And She Deserved It

ELSIE COOK and I have three things in common:

1. We are both Baby Boomers

2. We are both from Ayrshire

3. We have a shared love of fitba and Kilmarnock FC

Where we differ is – Elsie judges every team against Killie's Championship-winning side of 1965, I think (allowing for the fact some players are common to both) the 1960 Scottish Cup Runners-Up side was superior.

 

Elsie has also made a far-greater contribution to Scottish Fitba than I have. She is, without doubt, the Godmother of Women's Fitba up here and the way she has introduced hundreds, perhaps thousands of lassies, including arguably Scotland's Greatest Ever Player – of either sex: Rose Reilly – to the game means her belated but richly-deserved induction into the Scottish Football Hall of Fame deserves a standing ovation from a packed Hampden.

Elsie has also just published her autobiography: 'A Kiss Fae Pele' – it is a cracking read, which I unashamedly boost here. Buy it, read, it tell your friends, this is one of the best books, far-less sporting autobiographies, you will read this or any year.

We Baby Boomers get the blame for a lot – we invented the teenager; we brought Sex, Drugs and Rock 'n' Roll to Scotland; we broke through glass ceilings, tore down old monuments and generally caused mayhem and chaos. We have aged disgracefully and we are mostly, still rocking and rolling.

Elsie, in sight of the big 8 0, even, by publishing her story, breathes life into a near-dead language, Lallans, or, the auld Scots' leid. Like those of us brought up in wee Ayrshire toons and villages, Elsie has always been bi-lingual. We were forced, often on the wrong end of a “Lochgelly” to speak and write English at school. But, out in the schyl-yerd and beyond, we spoke virtually the same dialect as had made Rabbie Burns legendary, after John Wilson published his 'Kilmarnock Edition' of “poems mainly in the Scots dialect”.

'A Kiss Fae Pele' is mainly written in that dialect – because they are Elsie's own words and that's how Elsie speaks. Fortunately her co-writer, Tom Brown, has included a glossary of the Scots terms at the back, for those who dinnae speak it. Getting the book published is also a penance for Tom, like me a Cumnock Academical, who went against the flow, by supporting Auchinleck Talbot and Celtic. Not many of the school's alumni follow either path.

The story of Women's Fitba in Scotland is a hard one. The SFA, under Willie Allen, then Ernie Walker, were still holding-out against the monstrous regiment of women after the rest of the world had capitulated. Elsie was a Mary Queen of Scots figure, facing down unruly male Barons in her efforts to have the lassies allowed to play. Then, even when permission was given, some of the sisterhood turned against her. However, belatedly but rightly, her place in history is assured.

The book is not all about the battles for women's fitba. It is a look into a lost world, when weans in Scotland were not tied to their 'phones and devices, when we had the freedom to roam the countryside, making our own fun and free to grow-up as we wished. There are stories of the roller-coaster life of being KITD: “Killie Till I Die”; lots of laugh-out-loud moments, there are sad moments too – there are tales of the long-ago Wembley Weekends and of foreign excursions which did not go to plan and, of course, of the stratagems which had to be employed so lassies could play fitba.

It is a cracking read and it comes hard on the heels of another eagerly-anticipated memoir, Sir David Murray's. Of course, given his connection with a certain Glasgow football team, David's book has grabbed most of the media attention, but, of the two books, each written by someone from Ayrshire, it is the less-hyped Elsie's tome which I enjoyed more and which resonanted better with me.

Given the richness of the Lallans dialect, this would make a terrific talking book. I know Elsie does not keep as well as she might, and in any case is, I understand, not keen to take-up the challenge, but, a talking book or podcast version, narrated by someone like another great Ayrshirewoman, Karen Dunbar, who spoke the language, would be a sure-fire winner. Also, I can see the basis of a terrific film in this book.

Galston's Billy Kay is the current keeper of the flame of the auld Scots leid; I am sure Billy will love seeing Elsie's book published, helping as it does to keep the language alive. I simply loved seeing guid Scots words I hadn't heard or used in years, such as fankled, foonert, galivant, keek, to name but a few.

'A Kiss Far Pele' is published by Brownbross Publishing Edinburgh and can be purchased online from www.tombrown.online. The book costs £22 plus postage and packaging.

 

A Dinosaur's View Of The New Season's Opener

  

SINCE I HAVE owned a Thomlinson T-Ball and a pair of light-brown, hard-toed, leather, nailed-in studded Manfield Hotspur boots, I suppose I can be dismissed as a dinosaur. But, I did have the first pair of Puma boots in Scotland – pre-dating Pele, and had a pair of white boots a couple of years before Willie Henderson – who wore them long before Alan Ball. So, I am not immune to novelty and innovation.

 

However, I find myself at a loss trying to make sense of current management models – this current fashion for titles such as: Director of Football, Technical Director, Head of Football Recruitment and so-forth. I find myself wondering what the past managerial giants of Scottish Fitba would have made of having to work with, far-less answer to a suit with a big title and an oversight role.

To look at another sport and arguably the most-successful sports team on the planet – New Zealand's All Blacks. The ABs have a Head Coach – Scott Robertson, who makes the big calls, however, the whole ethos of the team is that they are a TEAM, park your ego at the door of the dressing room, all for one and one for all and, if you cannot agree to these parameters and buy-into the group culture, you are not going to be there for long.

Folk-lore/Legend tells us, when Rangers had a virtual monopoly on the Scottish titles, Bill Struth was God, but, he was barely seen by the players. He laid down the parameters and the ground rules and left it to the Trainers and the Senior Players to run things. I remember a conversation with the great Eric Caldow, in which he told me: “When I broke into the First Team, George Young was the Captain, but, he was more than that, he was player-manager. Mr Struth wasn't in the best of health, but, while he still picked the team and was very much the man in charge, George was the Manager in the dressing room – and we would have run through a brick wall for him.”

That Rangers' team was choc-a-bloc with Managers. Bobby Brown,Ian McColl and John Prentice went on to manage Scotland; Willie Waddell won domestic and European titles with Kilmarnock and his old club; Willie Thornton and Young had successful spells in club management: Johnny Hubbard didn't go into club management, but his MBE was as much for his grassroots coaching with South Ayrshire Council as for his excellence from the penalty spot.

Billy Williamson coached at Queen's Park, and was a much-respected Head of PE at Lenzie Academy, while Harold Davis, another team mate of Caldow's also had a spell coaching at Hampden; although, to be fair, Iron Man Davis was a Scot Symon signing. With that amount of football knowledge, the Manager's job is easy.

That apparently, is not how Russell Martin is finding things, even this early into his Rangers' career. I fear for Martin – his team was, as they say in Glasgow: “jammy” in the extreme in beating Panathinaikos at Ibrox. They then took jamminess even further in the second leg in Athens, before, if not crashing and burning, coming down to earth with a serious bump at Fir Park on Saturday.

I decided to watch the game and, by mid-way through the second half, it was clearly only a matter of time before Motherwell pulled back Rangers' early lead. I don't know how much input Martin has had in the summer recruitment, but, from what I have seen in the three televised matches I have watched, Rangers are going backwards faster than that mythical Ferrari-engined Italian tank from WWII.

Here's a suggestion for Manager Martin: invite a team of former Rangers' stars up to the training ground to take on the current squad in a five-a-side tournament, say: Gregor Stevens, John Brown, Lorenzo Amaruso, Jörg Albertz and Terry Hurlock – a few minutes facing that lot and the new boys would have an idea what it meant to pull on a Rangers' strip.

Some are suggesting, Martin may already have: “lost the dressing room” - I fear he may not yet have found it, and he has to do that quickly.

To be fair, I ought to have watched the other half of the Bigot Brothers start their campaign on Sunday. However, there were rival claims on my attention – an intriguing Formula 1 race in Hungary, an even more nerve-shredding run chase in the Test Match at The Oval; so my remote was in danger of over-heating as I flicked through the channels. In the end, the Cricket won – talk about sporting drama.

Apparently, it took Celtic 87 minutes to get the inevitable winner against St Mirren, Season 2025-26 could be a long one in Scotland. I wonder if Aberdeen and Hearts can offer us hope when they collide tonight.

Mind you, I did notice one interesting fact as I reviewed the weekend action. The West of Scotland Football League is being led by Auchinleck Talbot. Played 3, Won 3: ok, winning a league is a marathon rather than a sprint, but, maybe, just maybe, after last season's rebuild, Tucker Sloan and his squad have rediscovered their mojo.

They have rebranded the old Scottish Junior Cup this season – who better to be the first winners of the new competition than the serial winners of the old one?

 

Until We Become more Royston Vasey We Will Be Roy Chubby Brown

IT IS DIFFICULT to assess the relative general personalities of the Scottish version of Capulet and Montagu, Hatfield and McCoy, Earp and Clanton – the warring tribes which Andy Cameron wonderfully named: “The Dibs and The Dobs”.

On reflection, maybe because they have over their club's history, had a marginally harder paper round to work, I would say “The Celtic Family” - although often a family at war when those septs knows as The Kellys, McGinns and Whites held sway – is perhaps the better-balanced; which may have something to do with having a chip on both shoulders.

Certainly, over the past 60 years PSR – that's Post Stein's Return – they have accepted the occasional set-back with more grace than their friends across the city.

Right now, as we limp into a new season – the piecemeal manner in which we re-introduce the new campaign merely under-scores how few working brain cells there are along Hampden's sixth floor management corridor – Rangers, on the back of scraping past Panathinaikos on Wednesday night, seem to be in control of the narrative, but, the way we now get each new season going, it concerns me.

Of course, and like John The Baptist, I have been a voice, crying in the wilderness, for years – but, I fear, Scottish Fitba is broken, unless radical changes happen soon in its governance, irrepairably broken.

• We haven't been to a World Cup Final Tournament since 1998 (7 tournaments and counting)

• We have never got past the group stages in a World Cup Finals (8 tournaments and counting)

• We have never been past the group stages in a European Championship (4 tournaments and counting)

• Our qualification percentage in the World Cups is 8/17 – 47.06% qualified

• Our qualification percentage in the European Championship is 4/16 – 25% qualified

• Our overall qualification percentage in the two main tournaments is therefore – 12/33 – 36.36%

• We haven't won one of the three major European club trophies since 1983 – 40 seasons and counting

• Excluding the European Super Cup – we have won just 3 European club trophies – from 182 campaigns since 1955-56 – that's a success rate of 1.65%. It's actually worse than that, since in some of these campaigns we have had multiple entries

• In total, Scottish clubs have won only those three above-mentioned trophies, from 238 entries in the various European club competitions. That equates to a wins rate of 1.26%.

• Overall, to the end of last season, Scottish clubs had played 1476 competitive European games, of which we have won only 613 – 41.53%

• In all, 21 Scottish clubs have qualified to play in European competitions and of these, only two, Dunfermline Athletic and Falkirk, have achieved a 50% wins ratio.

Take those three European trophy wins:

1. Celtic – European Cup 1967

2. Rangers – European Cup-Winners Cup 1972

3. Aberdeen – European Cup-Winners Cup 1983

Thirty-four players got on the park to contribute to those three victories – EVERY SINGLE ONE WAS A SCOTSMAN. Indeed, of all the players listed on the official team sheets for the three games, only one – unused German substitute goalkeeper Gerry Neef in the Rangers squad was not Scottish.

If we could win European tournaments with all-Scottish squads, why are we persisting in failing to feature with squads which hardly include a single Scot?

There were just two Scots in Rangers's starting line-up in Athens this week; while new boss Russell Martin seems intent on following the same signing policy as hasn't worked in over a decade – loading the squad with non-Scots.

Now, I am not advocating they go back to signing boys whose idea of off-field fun is to drive down Larkhall Main Street, the car windows open blaring out Orange Anthems from the stereo; or having FTP written on their shin-guards. These days are past – but, the club will continue to trail behind the other lot, for as long as they don't have a solid spine of “Real Rangers Men” who know how to dig-in and win the 50-50 games – the luck which got them past the Greeks will not last. The team in Athens started with a mere two Scots – not nearly enough.

Take the Hibernian team which fell at the first European hurdle on Thursday night. Their starting XI contained just three Scottish players, plus two Republic of Ireland and two Australian players, and one each from England, Democratic Republic of Congo, Uganda and Wales. Hibs' current first-team squad lists 25 players, of whom a mere 7 – 28% are Scottish. It's a good thing for the Easter Road board that Nigel Farage isn't a Hibbee – or they'd be getting extreme pelters for their recruitment policy.

Now, I am not saying Scottish Fitba fur the Scots only – it would be churlish to have denied us the sight of the likes of Henrik Larssen, Claudio Canagia, the de Boers, Brian Laudrup, Mixu Paatelainen, Guðmundur Torfason, Marko Rajamäki or Jose Quitongo to name just a few of the exotic imports who have brightened-up Scottish Fitba. But, that said, I feel the introduction of Chick Young's “eight diddies rule” whereby a Scottish team could only field three non-Scots at any one time, would go a long way in getting Scottish Fitba back to where we all want it to be.

There does not appear to be a coherent player development strategy in our game; our clubs do not appear to trust home-grown Scottish talent and until they do, or are forced to pro-actively promote and encourage Scottish kids – we are only going backwards.

Let's look again at those three winning sides in Europe, and how they were put together:

Celtic 1967: Ronnie Simpson (bought from Hibs); Jim Craig, Tommy Gemmell, Bobby Murdoch, Billy McNeill, John Clark, Jimmy Johnstone (developed by Celtic), Willie Wallace (bought from Hearts), Stevie Chalmers (developed by Celtic), Bertie Auld (developed by Celtic, sold to Birmingham City and bought back), Bobby Lennox (develped by Celtic). 9/11 home-grown.

Rangers 1972: Peter McCloy (bought from Motherwell), Sandy Jardine, Willie Mathieson, John Greig, Derek Johnstone (developed by Rangers), Dave Smith (bought from Aberdeen), Tommy McLean (bought from Kilmarnock), Alfie Conn (developed by Rangers), Colin Stein (bought from Hibernian), Alex MacDonald (bought from St Johnstone), Willie Johnston (developed by Rangers. 6/11 home-grown.

Aberdeen 1983: Jim Leighton, John McMaster, Doug Rougvie, Neale Cooper, Alex McLeish, Willie Miller (developed by Aberdeen), Gordon Strachan (bought from Dundee), Neil Simpson (developed by Aberdeen), Mark McGhee (bought from Newcastle United), Eric Black (developed by Aberdeen), Peter Weir (bought from St Mirren), John Hewitt (developed by Aberdeen). 9/12 home-grown.

So, 24/34 – 70.59% of the players who have won European club competitions playing for a Scottish club were home-grown. Every single player was Scottish. When did we stop believing in home-grown Scottish talent, more importantly: WHY?

I look at how the High Heid Yins in our clubs do things now and as Rabbie wrote all those years ago: “and forward tho' I cannot see, I guess and fear”. That sentiment now applies, more than ever, to the future of Scottish Fitba.

 

Midweek Musings

THE JURY will be out on the latest Ibrox incarnation for a few games yet; that much is clear following Tuesday night's 2-0 win over Panathinaikos. For the first 50 minutes or so, I honestly thought they had regressed from last season's European form, but a cracking individual goal, a red card for the Greeks, then, after a few half-chances weren't taken, a second goal meant a good night for the watching Bears.

Findlay Curtis's stunning opener struck a blow for the under-appreciated young Scots on the roster, while the equally-youthful Djeidi Gassama also looks like a player, but, elsewhere, first impressions are that one or two who were NRC – Not Rangers Class – have been replaced by newcomers of a similar standard. It was good, from a Rangers' point of view, however, to see the real Jack Butland back between the sticks.

I MUST BE the kiss of death to England's Women's opponents in the ongoing European Championships. In the quarter-final, Sweden were going well, until I checked-in; whereupon they threw away a two-goal lead then lost on penalties.

On Tuesday night, I turned over after the Rangers' game, to find Italy holding a comfortable one-goal lead, only for them to surrender it at the death, before going out to an extra time penalty. Nothing against the award, but, referees have been ignoring such challenges from Italian defenders for at least the last 75 years, so I was surprised that the referee gave it. She probably didn't fancy adjudicating over a penalty shoot-out.

The Italians seemed somewhat upset at Chloe Kelly winning the game by netting the rebound after her spot kick was saved. Maybe they wrongly assumed it was the same ruling as for penalty shoot-outs: if the kick is saved, that's it. While, of course, in real game time, rebounds can be knocked-in.

Nothing against the English girls, but, I so want to hear the excuses from their media cheer-leaders when they do lose. Their myopic bias is still, and after all these years you'd think we'd be used to it, a red rag to any red-blooded Scot.

One thing I have noticed from these two games, is how the players shut-down once the game goes into Extra Time, with fear of making a mistake seems to become their main focus.

I believe, if we do have to have Extra Time as a means of deciding a drawn game, then it ought to be, as it was when I was a boy playing in a field, with jumpers for goalposts – first goal is the winner. Either that or, ignore Extra Time and go straight to Penalties to sort the game out.

WELL WE KEN NOO. Y Viva Espana is Scotland's theme song for Sunday night's Women's Euros Final. ABE and all that. I always thought, watching their semi-final against Germany, that the Spanish lassies were the likelier to snatch victory. I did, as a lifetime member of the Goalies Union, feel sorry for Grman keeper Berger. She had played brilliantly, then, one half-pace too far to the right and she left that gap to be undone at her near post. She will take a while to get over conceding that goal.

What really stuck in my throat about the game was the way the BBC covered it on the 10 O' Clock News. OK, they were always going to cover it from the perspective of their over-hyped “Lionesses”, but, to devotre more time to a blatant puff piece about the latest big thing from the squad than to the actual match – well, the Beeb now has truly dumbed down as far as they can.

They even ignored the first day of the Test Cricket – taking place a boundary hit from the BBC News Centre in Manchester – to slot in that latest bit of Lioness cheer-leading. “The world's most-respected news organisation” - Aye Right! Not in Scotland.

 

Socrates Has Gone Off Agnetha and Freida

BEING “A BABY BOOMER” - I am now something of a dinosaur. I might have had the first pair of Puma boots in Scotland, but, what a change they were from the Manfield Hotspurs I wore before that. I was brought-up to believe: “Fitba's no fur lassies” even though big May Stark, from the year above ours at Primary was a better centre forward than the boy who did wear the nine jersey. I have also come to the conclusions: Julie Fleeting was the best Scottish striker since “The King”, while Caroline Weir has the best Scottish left foot since “Jim Baxter's Claw”.

But, still I have never been a cogniscenti of Women's Football – something in my DNA says it's not right. However, I had been partially won over by the occasional clips I had seen of the ongoing Women's Euros. Unlike the top-tier Men's game, with its ethos of: “Don't lose, don't give the ball away, never try a risky forward pass”, the Women seemed prepared to try things.

Thus, in the spirit of let's give them a shot, I decided to watch last night's England v Sweden game. I survived, and my psychiatrist tells me, with time and the proper care, I should make a full recovery.

I joined the preamble as late as I could, but Mrs Logan and her panel were already in full-on “Engurland, Engurland, Engurland” mode; however, experience has taught me, that is the Television companies' default setting for games involving England – so I let it pass.

Then, on came the match commentators: Robyn Cowen and Rachel Brown-Finnis, who over the following two and a bit hours, managed to give the best impression of the late Marty Feldman's legendary England v Uruguay sketch I have ever heard. If you don't know this particular little gem – it's on You Tube.

I thought the pair were going to fall on their microphones as Sweden surged into a two-goal lead, totally dominating the game. However, the Swedes then conspired to miss a handful of chances which the likes of Henrik Larssen or Zlatan Ibrahimovic would have converted in their sleep and, to be fair to the English girls, some inspired substitutions and sheer grit got them back to 2-2 and into a penalty shoot-out.

We didn't have penalty shoot-outs when I was a goalkeeper, but, I used to love facing spot-kicks; mind games come into play and I had a reasonable stopping record. But this one: it was Keystone Kops in the low quality of the misses.

Again, credit to the English girls, at least they forced the Swedish goalkeeper to make saves, albeit from poorly-struck penalties. However, the failure of three of the Swedish takers to even force the England goalkeeper into making a save – that's criminal. If you cannot even hit the target, you don't deserve to progress in a tournament.

Sweden might have ruled the roost for the bulk of the two hours' play, but, if you cannot put the ball in the net, you go out.

I do hope the two BBC Commentators have recovered, they were close to hysteria by the end, and they still have – potentially – two more games to cover. However, once again, we Scots must ask: why do we have to be subjected to such biased English commentary overkill?

I know, it's no use complaining, the English bosses, plus the “House Jocks” within the BBC hierarchy will not listen. At least, if we were Independent and had our own Scottish broadcasting body, we would not be subjected to such blatant English propaganda.

I am now going off to destroy my ABBA CDs and bin my copies of Mama Mia and Mama Mia HWGA.

 

New Fitba Season - Yawn - So What!!

I REMEMBER one July Saturday, 40 years ago now, when a group of us convened by the grandstand snack bar at Somerset Park, buying pies and cups of coffee as we waited for the new Football season to kick-off. There were about five of us, representing the Sunday papers.

The late, great Doug Baillie was there, wondering what was new for this fresh season, but the Chief Football Writer of the Sunday Express, like Doug, sadly no longer with us, chimed-in: “nothing new, it's still 22 men kicking a round ball about for 45 minutes at a stretch and we will be bored stiff of it by October.”

He wasn't far wrong; but, at least back then, the start of a new season was an occasion we looked forward to. Then, the blazers who set the fixtures schedule had the decency to allow the sports writers to warm-up at The Open, before sending them back to the long march towards the following May and the end of another campaign.

These days, in their continual homage to: “never mind the quality – feel the width” the game's rulers have turned 'The Beautiful Game' into an all-year-round slug fest – the sporting equivalent of the Western Front – although without the mud.

The NFL season starts for real in September, the 17-game regular season ending in January, before the post-season run to the grand finale – 'Superbowl' extends the campaign to late February. At most, the team which wins Superbowl will be involved in American Football for a maximum of 26 weeks, with perhaps a further four for pre-season warm-ups.

This, to me, makes more sense than Football's fixation with all-year-round play, where we have Chelsea playing their final game of Season 2024-25 – the ludicrously-named World Club Championship Final, on the same day as Liverpool, the defending Premiership Champions, were playing their first Season 2025-26 warm-up.

Player burn-out, not Football's concern; a diminution of playing standards – not our problem: the players are there to keep playing and keep the money rolling-in.

This new season will be the 70^th anniversary of my first as a regular attender at games. To be honest, none since has quite matched the excitement of that first, the season in which our village team – Lugar Boswell Thistle defied the odds and all expectations, to reach the final of The Scottish Junior Cup. Losing that match 1-4 to Petershill remains my worst lost ever. “The Jaggy Bunnets” have never come close to another trip to the final, but, and it maybe served “The Peasies” right for beating us. That win was a then record fifth in the competition for Springburn's finest, they have not won the great trophy since.

That season started on the last Saturday in July, 1955 and was done and dusted by the start of May, 1956 – done and dusted in 40 weeks. Dare I suggest the quality of Football would be improved if we reverted to that sort of time scale?

Professional Golf is an all-year-round circuit, as is Professional Tennis. However, the top talents, the likes of Rory McIlroy or Jannik Sinner do not play every week; no, they take time-out to rest and recover, but, when it comes to the big Grand Slam events, they are there.

Between Domestic and European matches, the top Football clubs play over 60 games per season. I accept, it is rare to find an ever-present on their squad rosters, but, top international talent playing 40 or 50 games per season for their clubs, and then turning out for their countries in International matches is not unusual.

We wonder at how some of the great American Football Quarterbacks: Tom Brady & Co are still playing into their forties. Well, even a top Quarterback will only be on the field for 30-40 minutes of a game, which lasts 60 minutres of playing time – these conductors of the plays are only involved when their team is attacking.

Compare that work-load with that of a top international Footballer, such as oor ain Andy Robertson or John McGinn, running around for 90 minutes, in 40 or more games per season. No wonder it is a rare professional Footballer who plays much past 35.

In Season 1959-60 I graduated to Senior Football, and began to follow Kilmarnock regularly. That season, Rangers were in the European Cup, reaching the semi-finals. In all, that season, they played 61 games, between 6 August and 11 May – 34 League games, 7 Scottish Cup ties (including 1 replay), 6 League Cup ties, 3 games in the Glasgow Cup, 2 games in the Glasgow Merchants Charity Cup and 9 games in Europe.

Billy Stevenson, who died last month, was their most-used player that season, missing only one of Rangers' games in that campaign. Skipper Eric Caldow played only 37 games, plus 7 full Scotland games and 1 game for the Scottish League took him up to 45 games. For comparison, in the season just ended, James Tavernier played 58 games for Rangers.

Chelsea's victory over PSG in the World Club Cup at the weekend was their 64^th game of the season, but these matches were squeezed into 47 weeks, which works-out as nearly 1.4 games per week. No wonder the club needs a 46-strong squad of players. Add the seemingly obligatory trip to sunnier climes to play maybe a couple of lucrative but meaningless friendlies – to increase “Brand Awareness” and I reckon the players have to exagerrate an injury or two, just to get a break from all-year-round play.

Dare I suggest, a shorter season (or at least fewer games) might mean smaller, more-talented squads and a better product for the fans to watch. I for one, am a tad weary of the present fashion for possession football, of two passes sideways, two passes backwards for every pass forward as teams try to pass each other off the park.

Are we maybe heading for the imposition of new Laws, directing that if a team hasn't at least tried a shot at goal after a given time or a given number of passes have elapsed, they lose possession? Or: why doesn't IFAB suggest a law amendment whereby, a team cannot pass the ball back into their own half once they have taken the ball over the half-way line. That might brighten things up.

American Football makes money, because the League plays hard ball with the TV companies, the sponsors and everyone who wishes to become involved. The mantra is: “We've got a great product here, but you're going to have to pay top dollar to watch it, either live or on TV.”

I don't think Football (or should I call it Real Football to differentiate from the inferior American product) sells itself as hard or as big as it could -although that might change now American sports organisations are starting to buy into British Football clubs.

If I was to be appointed Dictator 'Supreme Leader' of the SFA, I'd be telling the clubs: “Right guys, we now have a three foreigners rule – you're going to actively recruit and promote Scottish talent. No more third or fourth-rate non-Scots. And the Scots you do have, must be better coached and trained – lets think Waitrose or Marks & Spencer rather than Aldi and Lidl – or in many cases Iceland and Poundstretcher.

“While I'm at it, you will enhance the spectator experience by upgrading your grounds and you will sell the game better”.

I am sure there would be squealing, wailing and gnashing of teeth and a few rocky years, but, if Scottish Fitba does not wake-up, smell the coffee and join the 21^st century, ere lang, our so-called top clubs will be playing in the first rather than the second or third qualifying rounds in the European competitions; we will be down there with the real minnow nations.

I can but hope.

 

AH KENT HIS FAITHER – who I regularly chauffeured while part-time taxi-driving in Ayr, and always found to be a gentleman. I got to know the man himself while involved in Basketball in the early 1980s, and I once, memorably, was hauled over the coals verbally by some of the biggest names in the Scottish Football Writers Association, for calling him “David” after I addressed him as such when asking a question at a Rangers press conference. Apparently: “Mr Chairman” or “Mr Murray” were the accepted mode of address.

As I explained, he had been “David” when we were involved in Scottish Basketball meetings, or when socialising before or after games in that sport, so, I wasn't changing. Funnily enough, one of the leaders of the “A Team Gang” who was so-keen to put me in my place, was outed in Sir David Murray's autobiography 'Mettle' as the one major Scottish Football Writer he had never spoken to.

Mettle has been much-hyped by the publishers, Reach Sports. {Reach owns the Daily Record, Sunday Mail and most of Scotland's surviving local newspapers].

I binge read it after it was delivered on Saturday afternoon, I enjoyed it, it's a very-good read, but, in the end it left me a tad disappointed. David was not well served by his Book Editor, there are one or two factual errors which ought to have been spotted and rectified before publication, for instance.

Of course, the “hook” on which it was authorised was Murray's 23 years as owner of Rangers, but for me, the bits about his inter-action with the players and managers at Ibrox are the weakest sections – for all his obvious high regard for Walter Smith. Much-more interesting for me were his tales of his lengthy and successful business career and of the wheeling and dealing which he did in that part of his interesting life.

I can understand why he might wish to gloss over the accident which cost him both legs, and his recovery from this huge blow. But, I would loved to have read more about that and his time running Murray International Metals then Livingston Bulls Basketball Clubs. What he did for that club and for that sport, in the years before he bought Rangers, that is a story which deserved telling.

He also modestly plays down his other generous support of other amateur clubs, in hockey and volleyball for instance, plus some sponsorships in other areas.

I feel, some of the Basketball players he employed then, guys such as Alton Byrd, Bobby Archibald, Graeme Hill and Ian McLean, are as-interesting, if not more-so than Ally McCoist, Paul Gascoigne & Co. Indeed Byrd, regarded at the time as: “The best player in the world under six feet tall” was as big a star as anyone in the Ibrox dressing room.

Another two players, MIM and Multi-Metals' American Lewis Young and oor ain Jim “Tober” Morrison, who captained the Rangers Basketball team, could out-score Ally McCoist any day.

Then there was the tale of how David Holmes, Murray's predecessor as Rangers Chairman started a Rangers Basketball team, with a view to making the club a multi-sports one, like Barcelona and Real Madrid, then, when Murray bought Rangers, he found himself owning the two top teams in the British Basketball League.

As it is, the Basketball Years get barely three mentions, while the only hoops star to get a name-check was Alan Baillie – one of several to work in Murray's businesses and mentioned in that regard.

But, these caveats raised, it is a cracking book, well-worth reading and I commend it to the House.

ONE OF MY best mates, when I was “On the tools” and covering live Football matches was Graham Scott of the Evening Times/Herald. Graham made his reputation as THE Junior Football reporter with the Times, before, as he scaled down towards retirement, taking his particular brand of highly-competent football writing into the Senior ranks. He was always great company in the hurly-burly of the press box.

Graham was also, inadvertently, partly the cause of my lengthy ban from that wonderful pre-Junior Cup final lunch, after the odious Joe Black let Graham into the dressing room area and kept the rest of us outside, after one Junior Cup Final. I did not miss Mr Black and hit the wall when we did finally get in – after which, I became a non-person.

Any way, I reckon Graham could really get his teeth into a wee something I noticed this week, when my local paper: The Cumnock Chronicle, surprised us all by publishing a story which was worth reading – about the latest raft of changes that are afoot in what we are now obliged to call: “The Community Game.”

Apparently, at the end of the season which is about to start, there will be huge changes around Tiers Five and Six of the Scottish Football Pyramid, that's where the top “Senior Non-League” clubs; Highland and Lowland League teams and the former Junior sides such as Auchinleck Talbot play.

At the moment, Tier Five Lowland League clubs play in a single division, but, in season 2026-2027 there will be a change to form Lowland League East and Lowland League West, and, that's where things will become interesting. This will call for a larger number of teams to be promoted from Tier Six – The West of Scotland League. However, to be promoted, a club will have to be “licenced”, which calls for a certain level of infrastructure and club organisation, and not all the West of Scotland League clubs meet the licencing criteria.

So, we might see a team which doesn't meet the SFA's stringent requirements for promotion finishing above a club which does, and losing out on promotion to that other club – cue outraged fans shouting the odds.

Given some of these club officials could start an argument in an empty hoose, I don't envy the League officials such as my old mate John Dalton, the West of Scotland League Secretary, in trying to keep the peace, explain the changes and get them implemented.