Happy 150th International Football

I AM writing this post on St Andrew's Day, 2022, which just happens to be the 150^th anniversary of the birth of international football – the day Scotland met England, at Hamilton Crescent, Glasgow, in a game which ended 0-0 and which the players then didn't know it, was starting a billion dollar, world-wide industry.

 I just wonder that Charles Allcock and Robert Gardner, looking down from the great committee box in the sky, make of where their initiative has gone, from that goalless start on a dreich November day in Glasgow, to today's carry-on in the sands of Qatar.

St Andrew's Night is the traditional date for the Scottish Football Hall of Fame Inductees Dinner. However, Covid has meant it hasn't happened since 2019 and a search of the internet found no mention of any inductees or even a function this year.

To be fair, the SFA has in recent weeks, belatedly paid tribute to The Ravenscraig Pioneers, the ladies who played in Scotland's first Women's International, against England, naturally, at Ravenscraig Stadium, Greenock, back in 1972.

Stewarton's own Rose Reilly is, rightly, already in the Hall of Fame. If the high heid yins are not going to induct anyone in 22022 – I can give them three names they really cannot overlook when they do get back to inducting worthy football people to the Hall of Fame: Edna Nellis, Elsie Cook – who organised that first international, and way belatedly from 187s – the above-mentioned Bob Gardner.

The longer Gardner's name remains outside the Hall of Fame – the sillier the organisers and the induction committee look. Without him, they wouldn't have an organisation to establish a fucking Hall of Fame.

I DON'T know about the rest of the Scottish nation, but, I switched channels at 2-0 to England, on Tuesday night. I could hear the orchestra warming-up for a quick rendition of Jerusalem, and the BBC team was just starting to go alla “Football's coming home.”

I can actually now see The Common Enemy doing well in Qatar. Not that Gareth Southgate has a particularly-gifted squad on his hands, but, it's just, with so-many of the other favoured nations still to get fully into their stride, the England team is playing better than most.

Wales, sadly, channelled their inner Scotland – failing, when it mattered, to play as well as they had in the qualifying. Sadly too, Qatar was a tournament too far for their big players, Gareth Bale and Aaron Ramsey.

I switched to Iran v USA, which was much better, technically and entertainment-wise than the all-British affair I had left. Here at least, we had two teams having a go. This was a bit more cup-tie football.

IF THE desk jockeys in the mainstream media had even a quarter of a brain cell between them, they would be ignoring Qatar and trying to sell Scottish fitba, and in particular what already looks like the game of the weekend: The Clydebuilthomeimprovements Scottish Junior Cup last 16 clash between Cumnock and Auchinleck Talbot.

Not that this latest edition of football's equivalent of the Hatfield and McCoys feud needs additional hype. As ever, Townhead Park, come kick-off time, 1.30pm on Saturday, will be no place for the faint of heart or straight of lace.

Being Muirkirk-born, Lugar-raised and having lived more than half my life in New Cumnock, I am the epitome of neutrality where this particular game is concerned – I don't care who beats Scumnock!! However, the 2022-23 Talbot, does not appear to have the impregnable auro of past Tucker Sloan teams, so, there is a greater degree of hope among the home fans than in some recent encounters.

Perhaps, if they were to give up their obsession with the latest chancer to pick-up the poisoned chalice of being Breengers' boss, and take a look at this game – and the other seven ties to be played the same day, the Lap Top Loyal might learn a thing or ten.

AS MENTIONED above, Scottish Football turns 150 today. Over that century and a half, we've had many true greats, but, I thought I'd give myself Mission Impossible – and try to come up with the definitive Scottish Football First XI – the guys who've made the biggest impact over that time.

Now, like every other opinion in football, a game where coverage is nearly all about opinion, with actual factual match or news coverage coming a distant second, I don't expect everyone to agree with my team, which is:

Robert Gardner (The Queen's Park secretary and goalkeeper who organised the first international), Sir George Graham (long-serving Secretary of the SFA), Fergus Suter (the first professional footballer), Bill Struth (trainer/manager who introduced athletics training methods into the game), Sir Robert Kelly (Celtic Chairman and administrator), Andy Roxburgh (coach and coach educator), Alan Morton, George Young, Denis Law, Jim Baxter (players), Matt Busby (player and manager).

Yes, I've left-out two or three managers who you might expect to be in there, and at least a couple of players, but, that's my XI, feel free to argue with it.

 

This World Cup Is Risk-Aversive

HOPEFULLY, things will improve once we get rid of the bulk of the 'diddy teams' and World Cup 2022 gets down to the serious business of the knock-out games in the last 16 and beyond. But, as yet, it's been pretty underwhelming fare.

I know the fans with lap tops are now conditioned to attempt to persuade us that 21^st century football is all about athleticism and running power, but, I cannot help but thinking, even with their alleged lack of fitness, the midfield giants of the past, such as oor ain Slim Jim Baxter could have a field day in Qatar.

To go back even further, I am quite prepared to believe that, back in the 1870s, when to use Forrest Robertson's great phrase: “the men with the educated feet” from the South side of Glasgow and the Vale of Leven, men such as Charles Campbell, the McNeill and McKinnon brothers and Dr John Smith were handing the English a new arse on an annual basis, they would, when the occasion demanded, pass the ball sideways or even backwards. However, their instinct was to pass forward and run on into a position to receive a return pass. I suspect they wouldn't have had much time for today's 'keep ball' tactic of: three passes sideways, four passes back, then one forward.

Barry Ferguson used to get a lot of criticism for his ability to keep possession, if he was playing today, Barry would be a maverick, who insisted on playing the ball towards the opposition's goal. Watching non-Scottish defenders, who are from the classic stable of our rearguard players – able to mis-kick with both shins – playing easy five or ten yard passes across their own half, well that turns me right off.

Sixty years ago, John Greig, Ronnie McKinnon and Baxter used to do this for fun, to wind up the Celtic support and emphasise how easy it had been win for Rangers to build-up a comfortable two-goal winning margin against a young Celtic side, still years and a player or five away from greatness.

Today, that sort of keep-ball passing seems part of a side's tactics to win games – perhaps a case of: “let's bore them to death first.”

I first encountered 'the press' as a tactic in basketball. In that game, there is 'the full-court press' whereby the team in possession is immediately put under pressure as they attempt to bring the ball out from their own end line. The answer to this is to have a guard (midfield play maker) such as former Cumnock, Paisley and Scotland star (and a damned good PE teacher too) Jim Smart, who was quite capable of dribbling the length of the court and scoring, thereby nullifying the press.

Of course, such a tactic is unlikely to work in the 100 metres long football field, particularly today, where the dribbler would be felled somewhere around the centre line. But, although Japan briefly employed one in one of the games in Qatar, we seldom see full-court pressing in football. Instead, we tend to see what I would call 'the half-court press' where the team in possession is put under defensive pressure as soon as they cross the half-way line.

This leads to sides, when they eventually summon-up the courage to cross into the opposition's half, playing myriad meaningless cross-field balls in front of a defensive line, quite happy to let them do this; edge of your seat fitba it isn't.

I feel for Lionel Messi; he was brought up with 'tiki-taka', playing alongside Pedro, Xavi, Inesta and Fabergas. Their style of short, precise passes, at pace, could cut through any defence. Today, while Messi is no longer the force of nature he once was, he is surrounded by players who are not of the quality of the guys he grew up with. It is often said, tiki-taka was the 21^st century embodiment of the Queen's Park/Scottish passing game of the 19^th century.

In Qatar, we are not seeing tiki-taka, and we are certainly seeing very-few, if any, of the great defence-splitting passes which can open up even today's well-organised back lines.

Time and again, watching on TV, I have seen opportunities for one of football's great passes, the diagonal ball between the central and the wing back defender, for a wide man to run onto, hit the by-line and cross against a retreating defence. This move has been a basic tenet of attacking football since the dawn of the game – today, the players seem incapable of doing this.

The quality of crosses into the box in Qatar has been generally poor, too many crosses are either over-hit, or fail to beat the first defender. Ally MacLeod, a fine winger himself, used to go absolutely ape shit at his wide men when they failed to beat the first defender – that was a criminal failing in his eyes.

However, at least, in Qatar, we are seeing the occasional flash of genius from the likes of Messi and Luka Modric. Two guys still capable of playing the killer defence-splitting pass, sadly, an endangered species these days.

Just before bed time on Sunday, I caught a few minutes of an FA Cup second round clash between Borough Green and Bristol Rovers. This confirmed something I have observed up here – you see more positive, risky fitba from two 'diddy teams' in one game than you will see in a full season watching the so-called good teams. At the top end of the game, everyone is now scared and risk-averse; that is not a good look for the game.

FINALLY – the coverage of this World Cup has been very po-faced and serious. However, oor ain Ally McCoist has thus far been the stand-out performer in the UK media, particularly in his double act with Jon Champion.

Best joke so far: Name three Qatar players? OK – Hank Marvin, Eric Clapton and Jimmi Hendrix.

 

At Least - Brazil Turned Up

THIS World Cup finally got going on Thursday night. After all, if it's “No Scotland – no party,” then it is even-more obvious, “No Brazil, no World Cup,”

We will probably not know until the knock-out phase, whether this is a good, average or bad Brazilian squad, but, the way they ripped apart a decent Serbia side was certainly encouraging to all of us to whom the men in the canary yellow shirts are our second international team.

Now, Neymar might be the game's most-annoying AWN – that stands for Annoying Wee Nyaff, but, he can play a bit, as can

Richarlison, whose second goal was right up there on the top shelf of Brazilian super strikes. I think it will take a good team to beat the 2022 vintage Samba Boys.

Earlier on Thursday, we had the inevitability of Christiano Ronaldo becoming the first player to score in five straight World Cup final tournaments. It was definitely a penalty, put away with CR7's customary aplomb. Mind you, as a fully-paid-up member of Goalkeeping Lodge Number One, I had to laugh right at the end, when Portugal's Diogo Costa had a rush of shite to the brain and put the ball down ready to hoof it upfield, seemingly unaware Ghana's Inaki Williams was lurking and, but for a slip at the wrong moment, would surely have equalised.

THE IRAN GAME, back in 1978 is seared on my consciousness, and I cannot obliterate the memory – we were pure shite and lucky to get away with a draw.

I watched that game in a pub in Saffron Walden, accompanied by one Jock Campbell, a bulldozer driver who was assuredly the Possil Psycho's Psycho. One of the Essex lads who laughed at Scotland's efforts that night immediately suffered a sever attack of the skitters, as the bold Jock took him to task – that was the highlight of a bad night.

Mind you, at least the Iran team of 1978 didn't beat us, something the Iran team of 2022 managed at the expense of Wales. Certainly goalkeeper Wayne Hennessy's red card offered a ready-made excuse for the Welsh, and probably saved the blushes of the likes of Aaron Ramsey and Gareth Bale. They now find themselves, like oor ain sainted Denis Law in being fated to play in their only World Cup Finals when on the down slope of the hill.

ON FRIDAY night, I was forced to send a strongly-worded message of censure to the American branch of my extended family. Well brought up by their expat parents, some of them even played soccer – as the true game is known over there – while at school.

They were obviously keen to see Uncle Sam's men turn England over in Qatar, so I don't suppose my: “American you were a disgrace, not beating that lot” message went down like a fart in a space suit.

That was two points dropped by USA. As for The Master Race: when Harry Maguire is described by the English press as: “the one shaft of light” - you know you've got problems.

Mind you, they may well lose to Wales and still go through, such are the vagaries of the group. I mean, Maguire has had his good game, some of the Welsh, particularly Bale and Ramsey, have yet to turn up, anything could happen.

But, isn't this World Cup a typically Scottish one. England, Argentina, Germany and Netherlands all send shite squads – the Brazilian talisman gets hurt first time out – and we're not even there.

FINALLY – congratulations to the BBC film crew in Qatar on Friday morning, who, in the build-up on BBC Breakfast, managed to find a group of Welsh fans who couldn't sing. Their effort at that iconic Welsh anthem was tuneless and downright embarrassing. Tom Jones or the Treorchy Male Voice Choir they weren't.

Apparently After Iran Lost - Football Is Coming Home

WELL – that was surely the shortest World Cup on record. After their crushing 6-2 win over Iran, the BBC commentators have as if covering an American Presidential Election, called it for England. Knighthoods for Gareth Southgate and Harry Kane, open-top bus tour of central London, and we can all relax and look forward to a great Christmas.

Football is, according to them, indeed coming home and Johnny Foreigner has been handed a damned good thrashing.

I know, I've seen this movie before, umpteen times, but, I think I will need to switch full-time to Netflix and Amazon Prime – just how the wonderful Beth Dutton gets herself out of her latest bit of bother in Yellowstone will, I am sure, be more entertaining than the fitba.

Maybe, however, not as entertaining as what is currently the best and funniest double act on the box. Who needs Ant and Dec, when you've got John Champion and Ally McCoist. Their commentary on a fairly dull game between Senegal and the most-average Netherlands team I've seen in ages lifted a terrible game to the watchable category.

The best bit of USA v Wales was the anthems. All those red necks hootin' and a hollerin' their way through The Star Spangled Banner, then being blown away by the massed choir in red giving it laldy with Mae Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau. I've heard it countless times at rugby internationals, but Monday's rendition was something else – 64 years of hurt, pride and passion, compressed into under 90 seconds.

Mind you, whatever Welsh Manager Robert Page said to his men at half time, it clearly worked – they were a different team in the second half and, with a wee bit of luck, plus a bit more application from Messrs Ramsey and Bale, might have won it.

Meanwhile, back in the land of purritch and auld claes, The Breengers are looking for a new manager after the sacking of Giovanni van Bronckhorst. The King' XI's boards of directors have been making poor decisions for most of this century, and for a few years before that in the old one.

I feel sorry already for the next occupant of that big office at the top of the marble staircase. He's inheriting a poor team, a squad choc-a-bloc with over-paid players who are quite simply NRC – Not Rangers Class, and fated to, at best, finish a distant second to a Celtic squad, similarly full of players who are Not Celtic Class. I will concede, Joe Hart is a better goalkeeper than either John Fallon or Evan Williams was, but, Big Joe apart, there is not a current Celtic player who could have got a game for The Quality Street Gang, far less The Lisbon Lions.

Still, sacking GVB is an early Christmas present to the current A team of the Scottish Football Writers Association, giving them perhaps weeks of doing what they do best4 – writing fictional speculation pieces on who will get the Ibrox gig, while calling round then entertaining their contacts in the know for a tasty rumour they can rehash.

A FINAL THOUGHT on that diddy competition in Qatar. Willie Collum, if he is watching back home, must be wondering how he failed to make the cut for the Qatar gig. Oor Wulllie is definitely a better referee than some we have already seen – bloody hell, even Dross is a better flag waver than some who are there.

 

The Scottish Fitba Writers Don't Do Irony - Or Intelligence

THE CREATURE that dare not speak its name – in the Scottish media in 2022, that would be R*ng*rs FC. Now, officially, or so the Scottish fitba media would have us believe – the worst team in the history of the Champions League.

Except, if we wait until the Season 2022-23 European Cup winners – you know, the team which wins the final of the whole damned thing and gets to lift that huge trophy, we will find that R*ng*rs are actually only the 32^nd worst team in Europe this season.

OK, their record in the group stage – played 6, lost 6, goals scored 2, goals conceded 22, left them bottom of Group A and with a negative goal difference one goal worse than that of the Czech Republic side Viktoria Pizeñ, who under-pinned Group C, but – they did go further in the competition than:

PSV Eindhoven (remember, the team they knocked-out in the play-off round), Dynamo Kyiv, Qarabag, Bodø/Glint, Red Star Belgrade and Trabzonspor – who also exited at this stage.

Then we have Apollon Limassol, Ferencváros, Ludogorets Razgrad, Sheriff Tiraspol, Zalgiris, Pyunik, Monaco, Sturm Graz, Union Saint-Gilloise (eliminated by some team called R*ng*rs) and Midtjylland – who departed the competition after the third qualifying round.

Neither should we forget: Slovan Bratislava, Shkupi, FC Zurich, HJK, Linfield, Malmö FF, Shamrock Rovers, Maribor, Olympiacos, F91 Dudelange, AEK Larneka and Fenerbahçe, none of whom got past the second qualifying round.

I could add the 15 teams who departed the competition in the first qualifying round, back in July, or the other three teams who exited in the preliminary round in June, but, while one or two of the teams name-checked above have reasonable European pedigree, I have to concede these 18 clubs definitely come into the “diddy teams” category.

So, while our soccer scribes conform to central casting-style typecasting and rail against the affront which R*ng*rs' Champions League performance this season has caused to the glorious name of Scottish fitba – can I suggest: maybe we should get real.

We Scots revel in watching, every four years, our English neighbours work themselves up into a frothing lather at the prospect of bringing football home via a World Cup win. How we love reminding them, they haven't won the thing since 1966 – 56 years ago.

Well, when it comes to the European Cup, it's now 55 years since Celtic won it, 52 years since they (Celtic) were last in the final and as for R*ng*rs, it's now 62 years since their best European Cup performance, when they reached the 1959-60 semi-final, where they lost 4-12 to Eintracht Frankfurt.

WHEN I was a lad, how the media covered Scottish Football was somewhat different from how it is done today. One of the biggest differences was, back then the “Fans With Typewriters” were mostly staunch Protestants, given to wearing brown brogues and showing a bias towards the blue portion of Glasgow.

Today, 'The Lap Top Loyal' does not have the influence it had in the bygone days of yore, and, increasingly, the Celtic Apologists are setting the media agenda. This was never clearer than in the reaction to the Bigot Brothers' exodus from Europe this week.

As outlined above, R*ng*rs crashed out with the worst record in the history of the group stages: bottom of their group, six straight defeats, the classic score of British competitors in Europe: “nil point”, -20 goal difference and a load of abuse.

This left Celtic claiming the moral high ground with the sterling record of: bottom of their group, two draws and four defeats from their six games, two points and a goal difference of -11.

OK, R*ng*rs' record in the group this season is terrible, they finished as the worst of the 32 clubs in the group stage. Celtic fans can crow at their rivals' discomfort from the elevated position of having finished 30^th of the 32 clubs in the eight groups.

Eight of the thirty-two clubs: Celtic, R*ng*rs, Atletico Madrid, FC Copenhagen, Dinamo Zagreb, Maccabi Haifa, Marseilles and Viktoria Pizeñ are now out of Europe, doesn't it say a lot about Scottish football that they provide one quarter of these “failures.”

Then, on Thursday, with an inevitability we all saw coming, Hearts lost in Turkey, and, while they finished third in their Europa Conference League group – they had lang syne known their European campaign would be over after the game.

Then came ironies of ironies – the final reckoning, which showed that for all Celtic's feelings of superiority, R*ng*rs had actually done more to uphold Scotland's European co-efficient. Indeed, while R*ng*rs finished their 2022-23 European campaign with a 20% wins rate, Celtic finished without a victory. Adding further insult to injury, the Blue cheek of the erse of Scottiosh football contributed a greater number of co-efficient points than did the supposedly superior green cheek.

It is indeed a funny old game Saint.

IF we had an NFL-style pan-European “Superleague”, bringing together the top clubs in the top football cities in Europe, there is a chance a combined Glasgow club could be in there and competitive. However, for all their massive home supports, the reality is, The Bigot Brothers are upper mid-level clubs, operating in a league which is something of a backwater.

That situation is not going to change, far-less improve any time soon, if ever. So, the best they can perhaps hope for is the occasional run to the knock-out stages of the European Cup, with tilts at the Europa League as their most-realistic chance of making waves in Europe.

In that case, as I have said before, they should both stop wasting money on fourth, third and occasionally second-rate imports and instead get their Academies working properly and bringing through young Scottish talent. That's their way ahead, 21 century Lisbon Lions and Barcelona Bears who want to play for the jerseys, rather than badge kissers who are only in it for themselves, quite happy to take an inflated wage packet – by Scottish standards, because they are not good enough for better leagues.