VAR Decision - Penalty To Celtic

TRY TO IGNORE the white noise from down Edmiston Drive way, The Breengers' current travails are, if nothing else, spreading good cheer around we followers of the 'Diddy Teams'. The big scandal of the weekend wasn't the visiting team getting a penalty at Ibrox, rather it was the tale of two penalties at Rugby Park.

Both were of the “Iffy” variety, but, needless to say – the one in the Kilmarnock box was given, then converted to give Celtic victory; the one in the Celtic box was waved away – to the surprise of nobody. If you follow a 'Diddy Team' you are not in the least surprised – we've grown accustomed, over the years, to “Honest Mistakes” which favour “The Bigot Brothers”.

On Sunday night I got embroiled in a little Facebook difference of opinion with a fellow journalist. Now this fine exponent of our craft got to run a Glasgow Sports Desk without being a member of that most-exclusive of Ludges – 'Lodge 1690 – The Lap-Top Loyal'. He was also famously described by a colleague as: “The worst kind of Celtic Supporter – a Protestant”. He was adamant that Celtic getting that penalty at Rugby Park was a rare case of VAR doing its job. Aye Right!! Just as they didn't do their job at the other end.

Here's a wee idea to end, once and for all, the arguments about hand-ball in the box. Why doesn't IFAB – The International Football Associations Board – the body who lay down the Laws of the Game, simply announce: “If the ball hits a player's, other than either goalkeeper's, hand or arm, anywhere on the field, it's a foul; if it happens inside either penalty area, it's a penalty”.

Of course, it's massively unfair; there is no context, no nuance – but, we have clarity and one less area of “whitabootery” for fans to argue over.

I actually missed the non penalty, and the Kilmarnock goal as I watched the Sky coverage from “The Theatre of Pies” - the game was so-boring I nodded off in the second half. That's the thing about Fitba in 2025, it's not at all entertaining; there is such a determination among Coaches, to take no risks, to – in away games: “park the bus” to not lose, the mavericks, who have always been such a feature of Scottish Fitba, are now as dead as the Dodo. I cannot name a single current Scottish player who is anywhere near the class of Jimmy Johnstone or Davie Cooper as an entertainer. It's sad.

We really need a total overhaul of the Laws, with the intent to bring back excitement and thrills, plus a touch of jeopardy, to our game, before it becomes so-boring everyone stops watching. I may have to put my great brain to work, coming up with notions of changes we might wish to make.

I HAD TO laugh when I saw Hibernian's 150^th anniversary strip – green and white hoops. Apparently half the team wasn't all Celtic stole from the Edinburgh club back in 1888.

GIVEN HOW some of their staunchest fans give the impression of having an aversion to soap and water, the under-fire Russell Martin was surely taking yet another huge gamble in taking his squad wild swimming in Loch Lomond on Monday – such a move was guaranteed to not go down too well with the wilder elements of an unhappy support.

My late wife always insisted, I would be carried into my funeral to 'My Way'. She won't be around to enforce this, but, 'The Coven' – as one of my girl friends insists on referring to my four daughters, are determined to uphold their mother's wishes – while I have instructed eldest Grandson: “If they go with My Way, make sure it's the Sid Vicious version you play.”

My reason for taking that wee diversion in the last paragraph – I reckon the Jacques Revaus/Gilles Thibaut/Claude François – Paul Anka, Frank Sinatra classic will be the soundtrack to Martin's eventual parting of the ways with The Breengers – whether that be sooner or later.

However, I do recall there were some perplexed faces among the fitba literatti back in the 1970s, when Jock Wallace introduced his squad to the joys of Gullane. Taking them there was seen as a radical move, might Martin too be onto something by being different? Time will tell.

THE BREENGERS' current situation at the wrong end of the Premier League table may be causing an attack of the vapours down at the more-excitable end of the football writers' table – but, maybe it's a case of Early-onset SAD – Seasonal Affected Disorder – that depression which hits some people, usually as the leaves fall and Winter arrives.

OK, maybe they've had a hard Marching Season, but, the Lap-Top Loyal are not their usual chirpy selves. The depression has spread North, not even at his dourest could the late Dick Donnelly, be under the black cloud enveloping parts of Bonnie Dundee, while, further north, in Furryboots City the Samaritans are apparently recruiting to deal with the growing number of not so dandy Dons calling them for help.

However, as always, I fear we stoic Scots are dealing with adversity better than our neighbours south of the Tweed and Solway. Down there, Liverpool may be clear at the top of the table, but the fact that Mo Salah is currently in “couldnae hit a coo oan the erse wi' a banjo” territory is causing misery on Merseyside.

Then, of course, there is that eternal soap opera in the Borough of Trafford, where Manchester United are sitting one point above the Premiership relegation zone and struggling to even win a free-kick or a corner. Just to make things interesting, Scott McTominay – a player virtually hounded out of the club as ”not United class” is back in the city this week, as part of a Napoli squad, taking on Manchester City in the Champions League.

You can guarantee, big Scott will be up for this one.