Socrates MacSporran

Socrates MacSporran
No I am not Chick Young, but I can remember when Scottish football was good

Thursday 31 July 2014

It Was All Going So Well - Then The Fitba Started

THE Commonwealth Games has brought a feel-good factor to Glasgow and Scotland this Glasgow Fair. Even when it has rained, when we have endured the normal Fair Fortnight weather, so-eloquently described as: "Shit" by Mr Usain Bolt of Jamaica - and, really, only the combination of a Western Isles Wee Free such as Angus MacLeod and some East End of London burd, doing missionary work in the wild, untamed hinterland of North Britain would try to make a mountain out of that all-too-true molehill - (sorry, back on-track) the Games have brought us sunshine on Shettleston.
 
So, right on cue, just about the day Paw's brain began to switch from Saltcoats mode, back to the reality of: "next week is August and ma holidays are over", back comes the fitba to shock us back to reality.
 
That Aberdeen and St Johnstone should suffer first leg losses is disappointing, but, par for the course in Europe. We lang syne became accepting of failure on the bigger stage. We don't like it, but, until the usual suspects are lined-up on that impressive central stairway into the main door at Hampden, then machine-gunned, we will have to thole it.
 
However, Celtic losing in Poland - well, for all the Poles have a much-better recent record in Europe and on the world stage than the Scots - we didn't see that one coming. Sure, we could maybe have put-up with the Hoops bringing a one or maybe two-goal deficit back to Scotland; any half-way decent Celtic squad would fancy their chances of over-turning such a deficit back at Parkhead.
 
Except, this is a Celtic squad in the midst of turmoil and change, and, the one-goal automatic start which playing in front of a Parkhead full house gives Celtic, will not be available, at Murrayfield next week.
 
I've been going to Murrayfield for more than 50-years, Hell, I've had the good-fortune to play on the big pitch, back in the days when it was a vast, open bowl. I have been out there in the middle since it was re-developed, it should be an intimidating venue. However, the old place has only manageed that once, and 1990, when Will Fucking Carling, that Smarmy Git Guscott and the Pit Bull were sent homeward to think again, is a generation ago.
 
Celtic will not have 60,000 fanatics roaring them on next week. You can never say never, but, I would say, if they can overturn their three-goal deficit and win the tie, there ought to be a Stewards' Inquiry.
 
We dream of a Scottish team in Europe past Christmas. This season, the dream is of a Scottish team in Europe when the season starts. Can we fall any further?
 
 
 
ALEX Forbes died this week. Alex Who? I can hear the youngsters ask. For "Red" Forbes was one of that fabled generation of Scots in England, before big money ruined the game. He won 14 caps between 1947 and 1952, at a time when the queue of wing-halves and inside-forwards (midfielders to you youngsters) to get into the Scotland team was longer than the train queues at Mount Florida Station this week.
 
If the Scotland midfield didn't click in one international, the SFA Selectors, who picked the team back then, simply flung it out and put in another, every bit as good - heady, happy days.
 
Forbes came out of abject poverty in war-time Dundee to make his name at Sheffield United, before going on to win one FA Cup and two League Championships with Arsenal.
 
Received wisdom has it that Billy Bremner was the identikit Scottish midfielder - red-haired, small, thrawn, tenacious, aggressive, but with all the skills. Forbes was all  of these things, but, his career was over before Bremner had left school.
 
They didn't have arterial cruciate or medial cruciate injuries back then, they had cartlige injuries, which would put a player out of the game for months, in those days before keyhole surgery - that's what did for Forbes.
 
Tjhey didn't have media pundits, once a player could no longer cut it, even in non-league football, with luck, a pub tenancy would be arranged, they were on their own. Jimmy Logie, another identikit Scottish midfielder, who was, with Forbes, the throbbing heart-beat of that Arsenal side, finished-up selling papers outside one of London's main-line stations.
 
Forbes, however, was one of the few who stayed in the game, he coached Arsenal's youth team, until, one sumer, 50-years ago, he took a squad to South Africa and liked the place so-much, he accepted an offer to emigrate and coach.
 
He spent 35-years coaching at an exclusive fee-paying Jewish school in Jo'burg. When he arrived there, losing by less than 10-0 was a good result, but, Forbes drove his charges on, until the became competitive.
 
He could easily have taken the money and lived the good life of a white man in pre-Mandela South Africa, living high on the hog on the back of apartheid, but, he, in his spare time, took the football gospel into the townships and to the company accommodation in the gold fields, where the transient black miners lived.
 
He taught them football and without Forbes and his ilk, spreading the gospel among their grand-fathers and fathers, so-many of today's big-name black African players might never have got onto the world stage.
 
All the time, Forbes never let-on how good a player he had been, he just got on with spreading the word.
 
It is said that the Scots, rather than the English, were the true empire-builders of the British Empire; that, the English had the big idea of what needed to be done, but, it was the Scots who made that big idea work.
 
In football terms, Alex Forbes was an empire-builder. He put more back into the game than he took out. I don'tthink we breed them like Alex Forbes these days.


Tuesday 29 July 2014

The Games are eclipsing Ra Gemme

I AM enjoying these Glasgow Commonwealth Games so much, I am struggling to even think about fitba.
 
When you see the sheer joy the likes of young Erriad Davies, or the older and more-experienced Hannah Miley, Ross Murdoch or Daniel Wallace have got out of winning for Scotland in the Tollcross Pool, or indeed any of our medal winners have got from wearing the saltire in these games - well, it shows-up our under-talented, over-paid and over-rated footballers for the chancers they are.
 
Ian Bell wrote a very good piece, linking sport, the referendum and independence in the Herald the other day. His basic premise was that if we looked to our footballers to give us the feel-good factor which Scotland is currently enjoying, and which could, just maybe, help the independence movement - well, the contstant under-achievement of our fitba teams would lang syne have stilled the cry for FREEDOM!!!!!
 
But, we all know, once the Games circus has packed-up and left town; once the Hampden track is torn-up and the grand old stadium reverts to being a football one, it will be back to what passes for normal in Scottish football.
 
The Old Firm whitabootery - the close-season "exclusives" about which cheap import will be next for the Bigot Brothers - the managerial merry-go-round - the fingers-crossed, praying for a miracle analysis of will be still have a team in Europe after Christmas? - the wonder as one of the provincial teams goes to Celtic Park and gets a result - the crisis headlines and torn badges which follow a couple of weeks without a win for Celtic or the Tribute Act. This is our diet, which makes cauld kale and pairritch seem edible.
 
Meanwhile, on the executive floor at Hampden, the blazers think-up further bizarre methods of spiking Gordon Strachan's guns, all for the greater glory, self-agrandesment and continuing survival of "the blazers".
 
We may or may not set-off down the road to a new and better Scotland, which is the ambition of the Yes side for the years post-18 September. Things may well be Better Together, I don't know. But, frankly I'd like to see us better together under a re-designed SFA, a body which already is free of everything, including rational thought. 
 
Haud oan big man - get your fitba heid back on.
 
Aye, we can beat thae Germans.

Friday 25 July 2014

How Can You Celebrate Glesca Without Fitba?

I KNOW fitba isn't one of the 17 Commonwealth Games sports, but, how could the organisers of the Commonwealth Games opening fail to get Glasgow's game into Glasgow's Games - particularly in a show being staged in one of the host city's three spectacular cathedrals of the beautiful game?
 
The failure to tip a hat to fitba - and square sausage - was a glaring omission from a show I enjoyed. At least, mince got in, with John Barrowman mincing around like a good, if bent un.
 
Captain Jack's full-on gay kiss with that kilted dancer kicked-up a social media storm, apparently. Not being on Facebook, or Twitter or any of the other social media platforms, I've to accept that on trust, sufficient to say - I didn't think their kiss was as heart-felt and genuine as yon time Gazza kissed Coisty - I mean, that had tongues and everything.
 
Any way, while the Games is copping all the attention - and what a storm after Daniel Wallace yelled: "For Freedom"!!! -so, how typical of the SFA/SPFL to kick-off the new season, at a time when nobody is watching.
 
OK, it's only yon wee diddy cup that the Rangers tribute act couldn't win, but, the kick-off of the Who The Fuck Is Sponsoring The Thing This Season Trophy does mark the official start of the domestic season.
 
Could they not have waited until the real athletes have left before bringing out the dross for another season?
 
 
 
OF COURSE our gallant European representatives have been back in European action and, to get three out of four through their first qualifying round ties wasn't bad.
 
I spoke to my Corstorphine resident pal this week, and she tells me the Celtic Family behaved themselves during their quick in and out to that douce Edinburgh suburb for their Murrayfield match with KR.
 
Well, after grabbing a win in the away leg in Iceland, Celtic were never going to lose in Edinburgh. I now fancy them to win their second qualifying round too, with a bit to spare.
 
Great win for Aberdeen in Holland. But, let's not build-up Del Boy into Fergie Reincarnated just yet, and, well done too to St Johnstone, advancing via a penalty shoot-out. I have a lot of time for big Tommy Wright, so I have. Onwards and upwards then. Motherwell losing was, well, predictable.
 
Meanwhile, the Tribute Act's pre-season tour of their American colonies is now back on-track after a dire start, while back home, from his Donegal lair, PMGB continues to obsess with their finances. The sad one-trick ponies, like the poor, are always with us.
 
 
 
Speaking of PMGB, the mad cousin of the Celtic Family, he and his decreasing number of acolytes back here were, apparently, in a bit of a fix after the CG opening ceremony.
 
I mean, God Save The Queen was heard in respectful silence at Celtic Park; wee Betty herself turned up, with Phil the Greek, and got a rousing reception; then the Red Arrows trailed red, white and blue smoke over the ground.
 
I hear a priest has been summoned to carry out an exorcism, before it will be safe for the GFITW to return.
 
Oh aye, and a Tongan boxer waved a Celtic top - that's Celtic Park for you, there's always Juan Guy making a prat of himself.

Saturday 19 July 2014

Soccer's Silly Season Is Different

IT DOESN'T apply to us poor sports hacks, but, in "real journalism" - that portion of the paper between the front pages and the tv listings and adverts at the back - just before the "funny" section, marked on the editorial map with: "here be dragons", where we poor sports hacks toil, August is known as: "The Silly SEason".
 
During that month, all the honchos, the decision-makers, are either chilling-out in their villas in Tuscany, or in the hills above the Cote d'Azore, or sailing their yachts; so, back at the ink face, the cowboys and Indians make hay with the silliest stories they can find.
 
Of course, in the fitba world, July is the Silly Season, of transfer-dealing, pre-season matches and early European qualifiers. This month will not help a team win any silverware, but, can often give a clue as to what might happen when hostilities begin in earnest.
 
This year, of course, the World Cup kind of got in the way, unfortunately so for Scottish football, since, after six weeks or so of Messi, Robben, James Rodriguez, Neuer, Schweinsteiger & Co, we are back to watching McClogger & Co failing to trap falling bags of cement, or pass to a team-mate standing five yards away.
 
I note that, in early pre-season transfer dealings, Rangers have either been delving through the stock of 'Dad's Army Footballers' or buying cheap foreigners, while losing embarrassingly to the Californian equivalent of Shotts Bon Accord.
 
Celtic, at least, under new management, have already won away in Europe, and, in the process given a chance to a talented young Scot. Jings, crivvens, help ma Boab!!
 
Of all the pre-season moves, however, the one which has most-perplexed me, has been the way the new Hearts management has operated in terms of their goalkeepers.
 
I suppose, getting Neil Alexander in as player-coach, with Scott Gallacher as back-up, will work better, in financial terms, than keeping-on Allan Combe as goalkeeping coach and Jamie Macdonald and Martn Ridgers as goalkeepers - except, I reckon Comber is the better goalkeeping coach and Macdonald and Ridgers the better 'keepers.
 
Still time will tell,  but, if under Comber's tuition, a Hibs goalkeeper tuns-in a match-winning performance in an Edinburgh Derby at Tynecastle, Comber will be entitled to go onto the park, drop his trousers and point his bare arse in the direction of the Directors Box.
 
 
 
TIMING is a wonderful thing, all-too-often, footballers get it wrong, and, seldom more-so than in timing their farewell.
 
So, full marks to Philip Lahm for announcing his retirement from international football on Germany's return home from their triumphant World Cup in Brazil.
 
Truly, he went out at the very top.
 
 
 
THE Commonwealth Games kicks-off in Glasgow next week, but, in the city which developed football, that game will not feature; not being one of the 17 Games sports.
 
Back when it was announced that Glasgow would host the Games, I suggested to Commonwealth Games Scotland, that they should use their host nation discretion - which allows them to nominate one sport, not in the regular CG rota, for inclusion to host the first Commonwealth Football Championship.
 
I suggested they run it using Olympic Games rules - ie only three players over the age of 23.
 
But no, football wasn't a CG sport, it couldn't happen. Pity though, The four Home Nations, South Africa, Ghana, Nigeria and Cameroon from Africa, Canada, Jamaica and Trinidad and Tobago, Australia and New Zealand, that's a good field to start with - add another three teams and you'd have a good competition.
 
And, just imagine a Scotland v England final, at Celtic Park or Ibrox. It would have been a sell-out. Won't happen though, more's the pity.
 
 

Wednesday 16 July 2014

A Good World Cup - Now Let's Make Football Better

THE World Cup is safely inside the DFB's offices; the bunting and flags are being taken down across a chastened Brazil; the media guys who endured five-star luxury are on their way to more five star luxury on holiday - and - down in the basement of football, where Scotland resides, our Champions have already got their new season up and running.
Truly, football is now a year-round game, which doesn't leave much time for sorting-out some of the game's problems, which were so-evident in Brazil.
I somehow manage to bounce back and forth between Rugby Union and Association Football, always have since I was 12. Right now, I am worried about both games.

Rugby currently has a major problem - refereeing interpretations. What one referee will allow, the next will not. These interpretation variations vary from country to country and, even more so, between northern and southern hemispheres.

Then we have how rugby's wild child - the set scrum - is refereed. Aside from the lottery which is deciding which of the two front rows has taken down the scrum, there is the ridiculous situation whereby, the demand,which is in the Laws, that the ball be put down the centre of the scrum tunnel, is ignored in 99% of the scrums.

But, rugby is a stop-start game, it can stand the odd case when a referee gets a set-piece wrong. Football is a much more free-flowing, non-stop game, and when referees get things wrong, and don't clamp down on infringements, the consequences are greater than in Rugby.

Now, by common consent, the World Cup was well refereed. There were few blow-ups or contentious issues. But, FIFA and IFAB MUST get their act together and sort-out the major issues.

To me, these are: the increasing incidences of "professional" fouls - cheap trips, body-checking, the way in so many game, the ball may get past the defender, the man may get past the defender, but man and ball must NEVER get past.

This was particularly evident in the knock-out stages of the World Cup, when players such as Robben and Messi were repeatedly impeded as they ran at opponents. Play was broken-up and disjointed - this is far from what is needed in The Beautiful Game.

Also, these cheap fouls have led to greater instances of simulation or diving - players, who could possibly keep going, now go to ground whenever they feel contact. This is cheating, but, the greater cheating for me is the jersey-pulling and body-checking.

I would like to think that the SFA, as permanent members of IFAB, would take the lead in making the game more-honest. Let's have players individually held to account for these cheap "professional" fouls, as in basketball. Let's see coaches who send their teams out to pull jerseys, body-check and slow down the game penalised by team fouls being counted - so that, after a certain number of fouls, the offending team would concede, rather than a foul, a penalty. Such a law would soon sort things out.

Football could also learn a few things from rugby. In the World Cup, the referees seemed to play a lot more advantages - perhaps they should be looking at rugby advantages, whereby, play goes on, but, if the referee decides insufficient advantage accrued, play would be brought back for the free-kick.

Football could also bring in, as rugby has, post-game citings, to punish offences which went unpunished during the actual match. Then there is the case of TMOs - television match officials, to assist the referee.

Rugby still hasn't got it right, but, it is closer to getting it right than football, albeit, it is further down the road inutilising technology. Let's see football using technology more.

Monday 14 July 2014

Germany Calling - But, Will British Football Answer?

FOOTBALL is a game played between two, 11-men sides; and, when the final whistle blows, the Germans have won. Aye, sometimes it is that simple.
Even before they stuck seven goals on a poor, mentally-shattered Brazilian team, it was obvious that Germany had brought the best TEAM to the World Cup Finals. Not that that guaranteed victory - the history of the World Cup is full of cases where the outstanding team didn't win the damned thing - think of the Austrian Wunderteam in 1934, the Magical Magyrs of Puskas and Co in 1954, the Dutch in 1978, or Brazil in 1982.

But, none of these glorious failures was a German team - when the going gets tough and German engineering is put to the test, it usually delivers, as Jogi Loeuw's team did in the final.

Mind you, on the back of some terrific defending from Mascherano and Demichelis, plus some unbelievable misses from their front men, even Messi, the Argentinians made it very hard, before that glorious Goetze goal - one as good as any ever to win the World Cup.

This was the best World Cup for a long time, roll on 2018.

Some final thoughts: Messi as Player of the Tournament (a sop to South America) -sure, he's still a fantastic player, but, he is playing in a team which is a wee bit off being the best. I thought Mascherano and Zabaletta were the best of that bunch, while in the knock-out phases Bastian Schweinsteiger was a stick-oot for the winners - he'd be in my team at Auchinleck.

As a former goalkeeper, I am a convinced Manuel Neuer fan. He plays a lot like I did all these years ago. Aye Right!!!!!



WHAT lessons can we Scots learn from World Cup 2014?

Well, we could start by the SFA and SPFL saying: "Win it or lose it, we go back to being Scottish. We will actively promote Scottish players for Scottish teams. Every Scottish team which takes to the park has to have eight Scotland-qualified players, and, there must ALWAYS be eight Scots per side on the park.

We will insist on teams playing the old Scottish passing game. Get it down and pass the thing.

That will do for starters. We can then set about getting rid of the "diddy" senior clubs who are only clinging on to senior status, because: "We've aye been a senior club".

Not that they should be shut down. We cut the SPFL to a maximum of 20, full-time clubs. Below that, the emphasis should be on player development, at a local level, with a presumption towards Under-23 players.

I am not saying implementing this would be easy - or, that it would be a quick fix, but, just maybe, my grand-children could enjoy seeing Scotland in the World Cup  Final.



ONE sad aspect of Scottish football - albeit one we would be better-off without, was all-too-clear in the aftermath.

I logged-on to the website of one of Scotland's two supposed "quality" newspapers which is published in Scotland. What I found was an excellent World Cup final report, written by one of the top two football writers currently working in Scotland, but the readers' comments - oh dear!

It was mainly, the usual whitabootery between followers of the current Scottish Champions and the tribute act which won the SPFL First Division last season.

In the on-going Independence debate, some of the Yes-supporting cyber warriors have been named "Cybergnatz". In fitba terms, these Old Firm cyber-warriors are maybe: "Cybermidges" - Scottish, more of them, and more-irritating. 

Friday 11 July 2014

Di Stefano - Aye, no Bad

AFTER that German win over Brazil, and with the second World Cup semi-final still to come, I was distracted from posting a tribute to the legendary Alfredo Di Stefano, who passed away, at 88, following a heart attack, this week.
 
The 'Blond Arrow' as he was named was very-much THE main man in the wonderful Real Madrid team, which won the first five European Cups on the bounce, completing their nap hand with that never-to-be-forgotten 7-3 demolition of Eintracht Frankfurt, at Hampden, in May, 1958.
 
Now Eintracht had put 12-goals past a good Rangers team in the two-legged semi-final, so, the mainly Scottish crowd of over 128,000 who packed the Hampden terraces, expected a good game - instead, they got a classic, one dominated by Di Stefano.
 
Sure, our old friend Ferenc Puskas, the Hungarian "Galloping Major", scored four goals to his Argentinian team-mate's three, but, if you take cognisance of Di Stefano's "assists", he was the Man of the Match.
 
Who can ever forget that seventh Real goal, Frankfurt had just scored a second, but, straight from the re-start, Di Stefanjo and Puskas inter-passed their way downfield for Di Stefano to plant an unstopable grounder into the bottom left-hand corner of the goal at the Mount Florida end.
 
Real then took the trophy on Hampden's first lap of honour, to a standing ovation from the Tartan Army on the terraces. Most-memorably, as Hughie McIlvanney reported, one of the leading Scottish sports writers of the time was less than impressed.
 
"Aye, Scottish fans wouldnae pay to watch that kind of football every week", he opined. Would that we had been given the chance.
 
At Real, you kow-towed to Di Stefano, or you shipped-out. Puskas and he had a wonderful working relationship, so too did he and Raymond Kopa, a man who, with Michel Platini and Zinadene Zidane forms the French Holy Trinity of greats. However, Didi, the Brazilian midfield maestro of the 1958 World Cup winning side never got on with Di Stefano - the Argentinian/Brazilian mix didn't work, and he was quickly shipped-out.
 
Some say, Di Stefano was the greatest all-round player ever - he was as good in midfield as up front, he scored goals, and he made them. That's opinion. What we do know is that probably the first Scot to see him in action, Bobby Flavell, briefly a team-mate with Millionaros of Bogota in 1949 said he had never seen skill like that displayed by Di Stefano and an Argentinian team mate, as they inter-passed their way from half-way, for Di Stefano to score, the ball never touching the ground until it landed in the net.
 
Yet,he could be nullified. If Hampden, 1960 was his greatest match; then Hampden, 1957, is one he would rather forget. Di Stefano was in the Spanish team beaten 4-2 by Scotland in a World Cup qualifier, as we went on to take the sole qualifying spot from a group which comprised Scotland, Spain and Switzerland in the lead-up to the 1958 finals.
 
Geordie Young was Scotland's captain/manager, the game would be his last at Hampden, he had already decided to retire and he came-up with a plan to nullify Di Stefano. Briefly, this called for Tommy Docherty to man-mark the Argentinian, who had been naturalised to play for Spain, while Young himself played as a sort of sweeper. The plan wortked, as Docherty harried Di Stefano mercilessly, and, ok, kicked lumps out of him in the process - sometimes, needs must.
 
He also had a good, if not gret, managerial career, famously being out-flanked by the combination of Alex Ferguson and Jock Stein in Gothenburg in 1983, with Fergie carrying-out Stein's plan of pandering to Di Stefan's and Real Madrid's legend, by presenting Di Stefano with a bottle of malt whisky as a mark of his and his club's respect - thereby kidding Di Stefano and Real into thinking, they were playing some hicks from the sticks. The rest is historty.
 
Aye, I think he'd have got a game for Scotland.
 
 
 
SO, it was all Hector's fault - if the Big Tax Case - the 10,000lb gorilla - hadn't been in the room, Rangers wouldn't have been liquidated, relegated three divisions and pilloried.
 
Beleive that if you will Rangers fans. Carry-on the denial, deflect all you like. That's shite.
 
The BTC was one element among many in the demise of Rangers, but, the whole shambles was largely a case of self-inflicted horror. Deny that all you like Peepul, it won't change a thing.
 
And, don't think this week's Upper Tier Tribunal judgement in full-time. This case will run and run, all the way to the Supreme Court. Hector will not give-up, jsut because he is two down.
 
Mind you, maybe, by the time the Supreme Court in London finally gets round to issuing the final word on the matter, Rangerrs will be playing in an independent Scotland, so, even if, in the end, they lose - they just might get off.
 
Just imagine the irony - the great Unionist side, the Queen's XI, being saved further humiliation by FREEDOM!!!!!
 
 

Thursday 10 July 2014

Germany v Us, In Dortmund - Skoosh Case

ONE of my favourite Tartan Army legends concerns the TA foot soldier who turned-up at the pub, to catch the bus to a European Championship qualifier in one of the colder countries in Eastern Europe, in November.
He was in the full Scotland kit - short-sleeved shirt, shorts, socks, trainers. He was clutching a Tesco bag, in which were his wash-bag, clean underwear and his change of clothing for the trip - the Scotland away kit:  short-sleeved shirt, shorts, socks. He also had a large cairry-oot, and considered himself more than adquately equipped for the sub-zero temperatures he would encounter on the continent.

But, that's the Tartan Army for you, they travel hopefully, but have, in the past 16-years, seen the team they follow religiously fail to arrive in the promised land of qualifications for a major finals.

In September, the TA will again go out on manouevres, hoped-for destination the 2016 European Championship finals in France. They will, as ever, travel hopefully - but, will they arrive.

I actually think this week's results in far-off Brazil have actually helped ensure we will be there. Let's be honest, from the momenht we were drawn in the same group as Germany, we always knew, qualification for the Euros would have to be via the play-offs. We were never going to top a group which included the Germans.

I am not saying WGS will have written-off all six available points from our two clashes with Jogi Louw's squad; we will fancy ourselves, if we get it right and they have a wee bit of an off-night, to take at least a point from our home tie with the Germans.

So, our focus has to be on taking the maximum number of points from our other group opponents, that point from the Germans, if we can get it, will be a bonus.

Actually, I reckon we just might do better than that. Assuming the magic of Messi doesn't prevail in the Maracana on Sunday night - maybe the Germans should have held back a couple of those goals against Brazil for the final - when we go to Dortmund on 7 September, we just might be the newly-crowned World Champons' first opponents in their new role.

In which case, was ever a game set-up for an old-fashioned, rollicking: "Here's tae us - wha's like us" Scottish win? Ach, a man can dream.



I FELL asleep during last night's Argentine v Holland, World Cup semi-final. I nodded-off after 69 minutes, woke-up mid-way through the first half of extra time. I thought the South Americans might struggle without Di Maria, but, Sergio Aguera came back and did well, while, although he had a fairly fraught 120 minutes, the Wee Man stood tall to be counted when it came to penalties,

I still think Germany, the superior team, will carry the day on Sunday, but, the chance to stick it to the Brazilians, in their own temple of football, by lifting the World Cup, will be fantastic motivation for Senor Messi and his mates.

Holland disappointed me, they played too-much sideways and at too-pedestrian a pace; they didn't make enough angles, their passing lacked crispness. They could have won, but were too-safe and too-technical.



The failure of HMRC to make a good-enough case to have the verdict in the First Tier Tax Tribunal case of HMRC v Murray International Holdings' ECT Trusts has been seized upon by some Rangers fans as a "We wuz robbed" moment.

According to Ra Peepul, if the nasty tax man had not so-diligently pursued MIH and Rangers over the EBTs awarded to a slew of players - the club would never have fallen into the hands of Craig Whyte, liquidation would never have happened and it would be real Rangers in the SPFL Premiership and in Europe, rather than a tribute act in the SPFL Championship. Aye Right.
Nobody can argue, the long-drawn-out Big Tax Case was a factor in David Murray's decision to off-load Rangers for £1 and the subsequent truck crash. BUT, Murray was looking to get rid, long before we ever put the letters BTC together - and nobody would take the club, which had become a gaping hole in the financial well-being of his entire business conglomerate, off his hands.
He tried to raise cash through share issues, and had to buy most of the shares himself, thereby diluting his share-holding. He paid too-high wages to players who were not Rangers class; he allowed managers to spend, spen, spend to an extent the late Viv Nicholson could only ever have fantasised about.
The Murray management model for Murray International Metals Basketball Club was unsustainable and failed. He tried the same management model for Rangers Football Club and failed. Sure, the BTC was a factor in what happened, but, the greatest share of the blame for what happened to Rangers lies with one man - Sir David Murray.

Tuesday 8 July 2014

Were Brazil Scotland In Disguise? No, We Couldn't Be That Bad - Could We?

ALL together now - you know the tune: "The cry was no defenders".  I tipped the Germans to cast the entire Brazilian nation into doom and gloom, but, even I never saw that result coming. Utter humiliation.
And we've got them coming to us in the Euros next season. Jings, crivvens, help ma Boab.
Now, if the Dutch do beat Argentine, the third-fourth place play-off just moght be the nastiest game in the history of football.
It really is difficult to say how good this German team is - Brazil were so bad last night. And we complained about Scotland under Vogts, Burley and Levein.
I TRY as much as possible, to keep this blog a Referendum-free zone, but, just this once. Yesterday the identity of those Yes and No supporters who had contributed more than £7500 to the rival sides were revealed.
Better Together, or Bitter Together, or Project Fear, you know, the Unionist side, which has already garnered the support of, among others, the Orange Order, is apparently, supported by some unknown groups based in the Sudetenland - that's that part of the UK within easy commuting distance of London.
I was not amazed by this, but, was greatly surprised NOT to see Blue Pitch Holdings listed among the Unionist supporters.

Monday 7 July 2014

I Can See South American Tears Over The Next Two Nights

TONIGHT, we reach the sharp end of the World Cup, with Brazil facing Germany in the first semi-final. I fear the host nation, minus Neymar and Thiego Silva, just might be cast into a pit of gloom and despair.
 
The Germans, when they get a sniff of World Cup victory, are awfully-hard to beat and, without their two main men, I fear for the men in canary yellow.
 
However, it is the second semi-final, between Argentine and Holland which I am really looking forward to - Messi v Robben; two defences which have wobbled at times. This one could be a football feast; it could also be a kicking match.
 
Argentine will miss Di Maria, so, I have a feeling we might be looking at a Germany v Holland final - when most of the world fancied a Brazil v Argentine one.
 
 
 
MEANWHILE, I note the challenge - to call it a tackle would be wrong, which put Neymar out of the World Cup is not to be retrospectively punished - good.
 
I have seen similar challenges galore - a defender, moving with power towards a dropping ball, taking-out an attacker standing under the ball. In such instances, the poor attacker always gets the second prize.
 
I still, some 15-years down the line, can feel such a coming together, between HIbs' Yogi Hughes and St Mirren's Mark Yardley, at Easter Road, which left big Yards out for the count, and Yogi on a yellow card.
 
I felt then, and I was reporting the game for the Paisley Daily Express, that Yogi was hard-done-by. The collision as these two players, who together weighed some 30-plus stones, could have been felt back at Love Street.
 
Anyway, this World Cup has convinced me that it is way past time football adopted some rules from other games. Let's have personal fouls, as in basketball; whereby, each foul is counted to the perpertrator and, after a given number of fouls, the player is out of the game.
 
Another basketball innovation worth trying, I feel, is to count up team fouls; these days, opponents virtually queue-up to foul the likes of Neymar, Messi and Robben, safe in the knowledge, they will get away with the wee, niggling fouls, aimed purely at stopping the skilled guys from playing.
 
If these team fouls were counted-up and, after a given number, each defensive foul resulted in a penalty - it would open up the game and allow the skilled players to play.
 
I would also bring-in retrospective citings, to punish bad fouls which the officials missed,or to punish diving.
 
This would entail a simple change to the wording of the Laws - "The referee is the sole judge of fact" would become: "The referee is the sole judge of fact for the duration of a match".
 
Thus, if a player dived to win a penalty, that decision wouild stand, but, he could be retrospectively hammered for his cheating. Ditto, fouls which were missed could be punished and teams which felt they had been hard-done-by by the referee would have grounds for redress.
 
I am not advocating that games won by a dubiously-earned penalty should be replayed, but, the cheat would not prosper, he'd be suspended for his trouble.
 
I know, it's a thorny subject. I know, rugby hasn't yet got it 100% right, but, I feel something has to be done to make football a better spectacle.

Good Luck Gauldie - And I Hope You're Not The Last Young Export

MY mates in the mainstream media (MSM) have been getting excited this past week about young Ryan Gauld, following his £2 million move to Sporting Lisbon. A nice move for the boy, and a good bit of business for Dunde United, who, I hope, put a sell-on clause into the deal.
 
Mind you, this £48 million release clause worries me - that's a lot of potential pressure to put on an as yet unproven kid's shoulders. Now, fromback in the day when Jim McLean would occasionally smile, when hair was long, trousers wide and moustaches seemingly de rigour in football, Dundee United has been producing promising young players.
 
I can think back to big Andy Gray, Raymond Stewart, Duncan Ferguson, Christian Dailly and..... Well given even Duncan Disorderly and the Tartan Army's best-loved analyst of GErman tactics have been retired for a year or two now, the supply has dried-up. Sure, there have been big-money moves, but, no Tannadice discovery has, n the past 15-years, come close to matching the exploits of the four  I have named.
 
Take David Goodwillie, for instance. Not so long ago, he was: the next big thing; he secured a big-money move to Blackburn Rovers and was fast-tracked into the Scotland team.
 
He has just joined the long list of exports to England who couldn't cut the mustard there and has just signed a one-year deal with Aberdeen. He hasn't featured in the Scotland squad for some time. He may, of course, back among his ain folk, rediscover his goal touch, which will be great for the Dons. He could get back into the national team, but, this will take a degree of application which has not always been obvious.
 
Of course, Scottish clubs have always sold-on their discoveries to the English game. The transfer trail south has been operating for over 140-years, albeit, in recent years, the trail has become a bit clogged by weeds.
 
I think the problem has been the ridiculous imbalance between the wealth of the football market in England and here. English football was always bigger and wealthier than the Scottish game, but, for many years the English maximum wage kept a lot of native talent here. The Old Firm, for instance, could offer wages which the English clubs could not match.
 
No more, even middle of the road Championship or League One clubs in England can now afford to pay wages which even the Old Firm will struggle to match. Football is a short career, players have to make money while they can, so, it makes sense for kids in Scotland, who have created a profile for themselves, to cash-in early, by joining a second or third level English club.
 
If you can double or better your salary and, perhaps make a name for yourself which will get you noticed in the Premiership, its a winning situation. Scottish clubs might try to persuade you to stay at home, learn your trade, get a cap and develop, but, when it comes to jam today, against jam tomorrow - well, today will usually win.
 
Still, Gauld's move shows, we can still produce promising players. However, for that promise to deliver, we need a change of attitude, not on the training pitches, but, in the boardrooms. The directors of Scotland's clubs, should, must, insist that their coaches work harder, the players harder still. Let's re-discover the old Scottish Presbyterian work ethic, and get Scottish football and players back to the top.
 
I wish Ryan Gauld well - I hope he makes it big in Portugal; but, I hope even more-fervently, that he is not the last young Scot to be picked up by a leading European club. However, I hae ma doots.

Sunday 6 July 2014

Penalties - You're On Son - What A Call

HAS any football manager ever made a braver call than Luis Van Gaal did on Sunday night - when he sent-on Toni Krul simply for the penalty shoot-out.
 
A place in the World Cup semi-final at stake and, with seconds remaining, he takes off the goalkeeper who has just kept his side in the competition with a fantastic blocking save, and sends on the guy who is - by squad number anyway, his number three goalkeeper.
 
Another well-known Scottish actor might have slipped into character and said, for us all: "I do not believe it".
 
But, Van Gaal did it and, it worked, as the giant Krul dominated the Costa Rican penalty-takers to emerge as the hero of the night.
 
If I was a Manchester United fan, I'd be rushing to buy my season ticket - next season should be fun. If I was a Manchester United player, I'd be worried, this guy will brook no nonsense, but, will demand the Reds get back to the top. I'd be similarly worried if I was another English Premiership manager. The guy has balls of steel.
 
 
 
OK he still is, what he has always been - a thrawn, greetin-faced wee ynaff. He dives far-too-much, he's got the kind of face you'd never get tired putting on the end of a Glasgow Kiss, but, Robben can play.
 
I don't think any player in this World Cup - Messi, Neymar, Rodriguez, Muller, Van Persie, has been chopped down as often as Robben. Sure, when it happens he does his two-and-a-half sideways somersault, with pike; screams like a female porn star, or a top woman tennis player, then he gets up and makes exactly the same surging run - to be chopped down again.
 
When the ball goes out to Robben, I am thrust back to my younger days, when the ball going wide to Willie Henderson, or Jinky, to my first winged hero, wee Billy Muir at Kilmarnock, or Davie Wilson or Bud Johnston, or Bobby Lennox, or, the great Gordon Smith, whom I saw in his two post-Hibs cameos at Hearts and Dundee; or, the finest wingers I ever saw in the flesh, the late Sir Tom Finney and George Best - forced a roar of anticipation from the terraces - it's primal.
 
Wingers who could beat men at  pace got crowds going - Robben is a throw-back, long may he wreak havoc.
 
 
 
A FINAL word on that penalty shoot-out. I had a cousin who played professionally, got to sit on the bench for Scotland, but was shamefully, never capped. He was a goalie; not so hot on crosses, but a superb reflex keeper, who, with his English club, built-up a great reputation as a penalty saver. When he retired, he had saved over 50% of the spot kicks he had faced.
 
He always reckoned I, who never got past the juniors, was a better reflex keeper. Mind you, I was even more of a "Dracula" keeper than him - which was strange for, when I switched to rugby, I was our club's go-to line-out jumper when the ball had to be won.
 
Any way, I was nae bad at stoppping penalties, and it was great to realise, during last night's shoot-out, that I could still call the kick. I knew where every penalty was going.
 
Had Jim'll Fix It been around when I was growing-up in the 1950s, I'd have been looking for him to fix-it for me to face a Johnny Hubbard penalty.
 
Wee Hubbie, still hale and hearty, living in Prestwick in his ninth decade, was Scotland's Penalty King. He took 68 penalties for Rangers, scoring 65 of them, Davie Walker of Airdrie, Bert Slater of Falkirk and Jimmy Brown of Kilmarnock saved three of the kicks, the other 65 were scored.
 
I'd have loved to have taken him on - maybe, after a wee afternoon session in the Wee Windaes, we can get it together at long last.
 
The best I ever saw at calling penalties, however, was Harry Coles, the former Kelburne and Scotland hockey goalkeeper. Harry had the uncanny knack of knowing where the penalty flick was going before the taker did.
 
Believe you me, the odds in a penalty shoot-out in hockey are more-skewed in favour of the taker than in football. Harry was a magician.
 
 
 
I SOMETIMES feel, this World Cup has been fixed for an Argentine v Brazil final, in which case, I fancy the Germans, now Neymar and Silva the skipper are out of the Brazil team for the semi-final, might do their legtendary party-pooper act.
 
Neymar has gone, but, Messi is still there, although I still cannot believe he couldn't convert that one-v-one late on in the Belgian game; see, he's human after all.
 
But, his weight of pass is stunning, his close control fantastic. He's class.
 
And, what about that Huigan goal? That's instinctive striking. Actually, it was the sort of goal Kris Boyd has, since his re-birth, been capable of scoring. There might be hope for Scotland yet.