It's Not What You Say, It's How You Say It

IN any confrontational game – from cards to cage-fighting, verbals play a part. The correct quip, delivered at the right moment, can have devastating consequences. Cricket, for instance, belies its image as a gentlemanly game when you read some of the great “sledges” in that sport:

Australia's Rodney Marsh to Ian Botham: “How's your wife and my children”?

Botham: “The wife's fine, the kids are retards”.

Australia's Mark Waugh to England's James Ormond: “This is a Test match, what are you doing here? You're too shit to play for England”.

Ormond: “Maybe so, but, I am the best player in my family”.

Or, my favourite, Fred Trueman, after he had uprooted the middle stump of an arrogant former public schoolboy batsman. The dismissed batsman, as he departed, said: “Very good delivery Trueman”.

“Aye, it were wasted on thee”, was Fred's retort.

Another good place for verbal jousting is the front row of the rugby scrum. One of the all-time greats in that area, former Scotland captain Ian “Mighty Mouse” McLauchlan, always insists, if an opposing prop comes up with the: “Do that again and you're for it” line – you're winning.

McLauchlan, or “Wee Beastie” as those of us who suffered pain at his hands know him, never went in for verbals – if you offended him, he simply punched you and told you: “That was your warning son”.

So, you are asking yourself – why has he wasted 230 words on cricket and rugby stories, well, just this – if Michael Lustig had had a couple of Portugese one-liners up his sleeve, or had signed-up to the McLauchlan doctrine, he'd have put Neymar in his place at Celtic Park last night.

Lustig picked-up a totally senseless booking by reacting to Neymar's petulant, childish push; had he simply got up and walked away, then waited for Neymar to run at him again, before knocking him into the crowd, he might not have avoided a yellow card, but, he would certainly have won the battle.

Previous generations of Celtic full backs such as McGrain, Hay, Gemmell, Brogan, Kennedy, Craig and, most-definitely Sean Fallon, would have done just that, allowed Neymar to get up close and personal with the Jungle. That would definitely have put the Brazilian's gas out of peep.

Any way, Celtic are now out of Europe this season, and, we have further proof of how poor Scottish football has become. That losing Celtic team last night had a 7/4 imports to Scottish balance. If we're going to keep going out of Europe before Christmas, I reckon we might as well do it with all-Scottish teams; in time, the Scottish players will learn and we will improve. Continually failing with mercenaries is not the way forward for Celtic, or for Scottish football. Certainly not as we go into the 50^th year since Lisbon.

When will that message strike home?

SOME light relief on our sports pages this week, was offered by that little playground spat between Scott Brown and Charlie Adam.

Now, in terms of pure footballing ability, Adam is a superior player to Brown. However, ability isn't everything, and, when it comes to application of their given talents, Adam isn't remotely in the same league as Brown. Scott Brown, with Adam's pure ability, or Charlie Adam with Brown's drive and passion, would be two fantastic players, who could make a huge difference to the Scotland team.

I remember watching Adam in a Scotland Under-21 match at Rugby Park, against Turkey I think it was. He was sent off for a petulant, needless foul, then, as the press emerged, unchastened and unbowed, he was holding court in front of a bunch of adoring Rangers' fans. That was when I realised he was doomed – a waste of space, who would always be a peripheral figure in football, as it has come to pass.

A lot of what Brown does on the field leaves me cold, however, he has made a lot of his talent and, while he was adopted, rather than born into the Celtic Family, he has earned his esteemed place there. I'm with Broonie in this spat.

I GOT “a legal warning” - which was actually no such thing, from a certain fading Scottish morning newspaper this week. Their website monitor, plus the churnalist I was having a go at, took exception to me referring to said hack as RWM of the Lap Top Loyal.

My counter-claim of “veritas” passed over their heads. OK, I wear such warnings as a badge of pride, I am fulfilling my journalistic reason d'etre by getting up authority's nose – result. But, in waving a yellow card at me, the paper totally forgot to amend the error of fact I was pointing-out in the first place.

Scottish football journalism, heading down the stank at the speed of light.