Bloody Hell - Football Is A Funny Old Game

SINCE IT involves Manchester United, I will begin this post with one of Sir Alex Ferguson's famous phrases: “Football – bloody Hell”. I might, however, equally obviously have gone with the Jimmy Greaves classic: “It's a funny old game Saint”.

These thoughts were encouraged from watching the Amazon Prime broadcast of Tuesday night's Manchester United v Roma, Champions League game, from Old Trafford. I watched the game in part because, after watching the worst Celtic team this century implode against Falkirk and marvelling at an equally poor but perhaps improving Rangers team huff and puff through their campaign so far, it was only fair that I watch the equally criticised United team.

Followers of these haverings will need no further telling, in my view the current squads at Ibrox and Parkhead are over-loaded with players who are, to conjur-up a collective description: Not Old Firm Class. The same problem is bedevilling Man U. There were guys playing on Tuesday night who would never have got through the door at Carrington, or before that The Cliff, in the days when United wasn't a punch line in a stand-up comedian's act.

MacSporran Meander warning: [in a former life, working for the Paisley Daily Express I was, one Monday, reflecting on yet another poor display by the then St Mirren team, with Love Street Legend Jackie Copland. Those who saw Jackie play will recall, he did not take prisoners and he was equally forthright as we talked.This particular morning, the object of most of his ire had been the performance of Buddies front man Junior Mendes. What had particularly annoyed Jackie was, Junior kept showing for the ball – holding an arm in the air and saying: “here I am”, while right beside an opposition defender. As Jackie observed: “a guy doing that doesn't want the ball – if he really wanted the ball he'd be looking for open space.”]

For Junior Mendes – some 25 years ago – read Bryan Mbeumo for United on Tuesday. Perhaps the biggest difference was, St Mirren got Junior for nothing, after he was released by Chelsea, United paid £65 million for Mbeumo. Now Junior was certainly no Frank McGarvey, Gunni Torfasson or even his contemporary Buddies Basher Lavety and Mark Yardley. But he was perhaps closer to them than Mbeumo is to the guys he will be judged against: The Holy Trinity, Eric Cantona or Wayne Rooney – to name but a few.

OK – Mbeumo did manage to hit both posts with one shot on Tuesday night, but, generally he ran around like a headless chicken and if that's what £65 million buys you these days, Fitba truly has gone to the dogs.

But he wasn't the only disappointment on view, indeed, the only two members of that starting United team I would keep would be Bruno Fernandez and Harry Maguire. They at least look as if they know what being a regular cast member of the Theatre of Dreams Repertory Company really involves.

I have just spent some time having a go at United, however, to quote another of the game's clichés: “It's a results-driven business” and United did win. That said, how a Serie A team such as Roma could let a two-goal lead slip is another question.

United might have got lucky with the order to re-take that penalty, but, coming back from 0-2 down to win just might be the change of fortune the embattled Michael Carrick requires.

Another interesting wee snippet from the broadcast was the opinion of Alan Shearer, that maybe the fact United recovered from a poor start to finish in a Champions League qualifying position was an indication that The Premiership might not be the wonderful league he and its other cheer leaders had built it up to be.

We all know and have known for years, the SPFL is a pish league – performances such as that by United and Roma has me wondering, are the much-vaunted Premiership and Serie A that much better?

Anthems For The Fitba Man

ACCORDING TO the brilliant Trevor Noah, Neil Diamond's great anthem Sweet Caroline represents the epitome of white joy. The South African comedian has clearly never been at Hampden after a Hibernian win – when Sunshine on Leith is being roared out by the entire King's Park End.

Hibs' fans belting out The Proclaimers' rabble rouser is widely considered the greatest Football Anthem, greater even than the Anfield Kop gien it laldy to You'll Never Walk Alone. Mind you, as I watched the television pictures on Sunday afternoon, I could not help thinking, a few of the non-Scottish Hibs' players definitely had that look which said: “What the fuck is going on here?”

[Diversion: I cannot remember who she was, but, I recall a female Scottish comedienne telling a story of how, when the song first came out back in the 1980s, she had attempted to sing it as her “turn” at the family's Hogmanay party. She got as far as “sorrow, sorrow” when her Grannie interrupted: “We'll have nae sad songs the nicht” was the order. From banned sad song to triumphant anthem – what a journey.]

Still on a musical bent, several Rangers-supporting friends of mine were in-touch on Sunday night, claiming that the soundtrack of 01 November, 2026 should be Daniel Boone's Slosh classic Beautiful Sunday. Mind you, this proposal owed more to events at The Falkirk Stadium than to the Hampden semi-final.

Thus, after a 200-word intro, we arrive at today's sermon.

Sunday's two televised games: Falkirk v Celtic in the League, broadcast on Sky and the League Cup semi-final between Hearts and Hibs, shown on Premier Sports supposedly showcased Scottish Football.

In all, including substitutes, 62 players strutted their stuff in the two games, only 22 of these – 35%, were Scottish. Also, of the 44 players who started the two games, only 14 – 32% were Scottish.

Falkirk used 16 players; they used the greatest number of Scottish ones - 7 with 4 starters and 3 coming off the bench.

Opponents Celtic also used 16 players; they had 3 Scottish starters and a further 2 used off the bench.

At Hampden, the two Edinburgh sides each used 15 players; in both cases, only 5 were Scottish. The Hearts' split was 4 Scottish starters plus 1 off the bench, while Hibs began with 3 Scottish starters and 2 off the bench.

What future hopes can we have for Scottish Football, if Scottish clubs will not field Scottish players?

Mind you, this over-reliance on bought-in, non-Scotland-qualified players just might lead us to the most-level Scottish playing field since David Holmes and Graeme Souness totally changed the face of the game back in 1986.

Souness took advantage of the English clubs being banned from Europe to import quality England internationalists to Rangers. Then, when David Murray bought the club, he broadened the recruitment area, by bringing-in some quality players from Europe.

OK, the Murray Method eventually faltered, leaving the club seriously embarrassed and, but for the fact, Scottish Football accepted Rangers were “too big to fail” and a buy-out prevented the club going the way of the likes of Third Lanark and into oblivion.

Celtic, having themselves only just avoided closure, courtesy of Fergus McCann's rescue act have been more-conservative than their rivals when it comes to player recruitment. Rangers were prepared to pay top dollar for top tier players – realising they had to to compete with clubs in the larger, better-funded and more-attractive European leagues and England's Premiership.

They can no longer do this, Celtic were never willing to, so now they are, instead of shopping in Football's equivalent of Waitrose or Marks & Spencer, never mind Harrods and Fortnum and Mason, looking in the game's equivalent of the central aisles in Aldi and Lidl for fresh talent.

There, they are rubbing shoulders with the lesser Scottish sides – the so-called Diddy Teams – who are slowly starting to realise, a lot of the Old Firm players we are facing are simply not Old Firm class. So, we no longer need to park the bus to try to limit damage when facing them, if we believe and have a go, the Bigot Brothers are vulnerable, to an extent they have never been in the past.

I can see a few more “shock results” such as Sunday's at Falkirk, and just maybe, if one of the Diddy Teams can sustain sufficient belief, a season which is something other than the usual two-horse race. Bring it on.

OK, I accept, even lower league English sides can now cherry-pick emerging young Scottish talent at will, which leaves some Scottish clubs with the attitude: “why should we bother breeding and nurturing home-grown talent, when agents are going to sell them to England or abroad at the earliest opportunity?”

It's difficult to argue against that level of thinking, however, as I have said before, and will keep saying, until we bring-in something like Charles Young Esq's “Eight Diddies Rule” - whereby there has to be at least eight Scottish-qualified players on the field in the two teams at any one time in a domestic Scottish game.

That way, we just might get back to promoting and seeing develop, quality home-grown talent, and Scottish teams doing better at both club and international level. If that's too-big and too-radical step, they could feed-in the minimum number of Scots gradually, starting with five, then building up.

Or, since the competition does not carry the prize of European football the following season after a club wins it – why not bring in the Eight Diddies Rule in the League Cup. Now, there's another way to further level the playing field.

Let's All Laugh At Celtic - And The Other Lot

 

THERE I WAS, settled down in front of the TV on Thursday night, ready for the latest edition of Let's All Laugh At Celtic: confident Benfica would trounce what one friend (of a Rangers persuasion) had dubbed: The Lisbon Puty Cats – successors to the Lisbon Lions.

Tweety Pie might always get the better of Silvester, but The Eagles certainly, on the scoreboard, ripped Celtic apart 4-1 on the night. However, in truth, if both teams had been capable of being more clinical in the opposition penalty area, the game might well have finished something like 8-5 to Benfica; still a defeat but one which could be viewed as glorious rather than a hiding.

So, to an extent, Celtic were unlucky in Lisbon, too often hitting the frame of the goal or a Benfica defender's body, but, for all that element of fortune, the fact remains – there are several highly-paid members of this current Celtic squad who are simply not Celtic class and, for all his undoubted and proven ability as a coach and a man manager, Martin O'Neill cannot make silk purses out of several sows ears.

Thursday night's outcome will do nothing to calm the rough seas breaking around Celtic Park. When I was a boy, in the years BS, before Jock Stein returned to put an end to decades of Rangers' dominance, although the club won very little, they pulled-in huge crowds and for all the disappointments, The Celtic Family stuck it out and stood together.

I worked for a tyre company, in a depot just off Duke Street; my boss was a Gorbals boy, a former Junior internationalist, he would have given an arm for even one game for Celtic, but, the call never came. He wasn't a fan of The Four Families who ran the club at the time – but, he recognised, they, like him were Celtic to the core.

He travelled to Lisbon on that great night in 1967, he even went on that heart-breaking trip to South America the following season and he would regularly join the fans who went into Barrowfield to watch the team training every day. Indeed, I remember one rainy morning, we gave Tommy Gemmell, Bobby Lennox and Bertie Auld a lift along London Road to Barrowfield – Stein had insisted they run along to the training ground as a warm-up.

That particular boss is no longer with us, but I wonder what he would make of the current state of affairs at the club, with an embattled board fighting with the most-committed fans; a resurgant Rangers at the gate and regular defeats in Europe.

The Celtic Family at large still believes in the club; however, the feeling appears to be growing among them that the current Patriach Dublin-based Dermott Desmond is only in it for the cash and the glory. The board and the executives in-charge of the daily business side of the club – well, as far as a seemingly growing number of the family members are concerned, these guys, such as Chairman Brian Wilson, are simply not up to the job.

The fans' crave European success – they have been raised on tales of Lisbon, of regular runs to the latter stages of the major European competitions; forgetting the reality – Celtic (indeed Scottish clubs) have not troubled the scorer much in Europe this century.

The fans' solution – the board must spend, spend, spend. In saying this, they apparently forgot: Viv Nicholson, the Yorkshire woman who brought that phrase into common usage, ended up penniless and suffering from dementia.

The unspoken fact is, Scottish Football is so poorly thought-of across the world, and Glasgow is often seen as a bit of a backwater, that even Celtic and Rangers, for all their history, now have to pay larger wages than the player might be worth, to persuade even middling non-Scottish talent to join them.

They have, as I see it, two options:

1. Spend more money on proven talent, with no guarantee of European success

2. Go back to Celtic principles and rear their own home-grown talent from the ranks of the children of the Celtic family.

The problems with that second option are: to succeed, it would need a coach of Stein's ability, a board prepared to give him the time for it to work, and even then, there is always the chance that the best young talent would be enticed away by the greater riches available in England or Europe.

Even with the number of non-Celtic class players in the current squad, it is impossible to see the club finishing the domestic season outwith the top three in the league, and with possibly one trophy. Still, the current squad is not fit for purpose in Europe.

It's a bitter pill for the Celtic Family to swallow, but, until a North American style European “Super” League, run on a franchise basis and with American-style management, or England's Premiership becomes a proper UK league, then Celtic (and Rangers) will continue to be big fish in a very shallow pool and minnows in Europe.

SCOTTISH FOOTBALL-WRITING statutes demand, while a journalist may devote the bulk of a piece to one cheek of the game's erse, the other cheek has to get a mention, in the interests of balance.

Thus, if Thursday night in Lisbon was bad, what can we say about Saturday night in Dundee. Cards on the table here, I have always had a lot of time for Steven Pressley and have long thought of him as a better coach than he is given credit for. Perhaps it's his own downbeat personality that has told against him, but, right now, I think he is doing a good job at Dens Park.

This Rangers squad is still a work in progress and as such, will always be vulnerable to a committed, well-organised domestic challenge, which is what they got on Saturday night.

When the visitors led, I was still certain Dundee could haul them back, but, I certainly never thought the equaliser might come from just about the worst individual mistake I have seen from a Rangers' Captain.

If one of the Diddy Teams can put a consistent run of form together, this season, we might just see the Old Firm dam breached – both sides are now highly-vulnerable.

FINALLY – I was speaking to one of my fellow coffin-dodgers, who has this season, after some seasons on the bowling green and on other sporting pursuits, re-invested in an Ayr United season ticket.

I asked him about that hugely-controversial penalty awarded to Partick Thistle on Friday night; have a look, there are plenty of examples on social media. That was, without doubt, the worst decision I have ever seen n a penalty box. The Thistle player should have been done for diving rather than winning a penalty.

My mate felt it was terrible, before adding: “the one Dunfermline got the previous game was just as bad – the two worst decisions I've ever seen, against us, in successive weeks.”

Where was Rabbie Burns when required, to pen a critical piece in support of The Honest Men?

The Shortest Of Honeymoons

'TIS IN SOME WAYS a great pity the late Frankie Howerd wasnae Scottish – the sight of dear old Francis coming on TV and declaring: “Woe, woe and thrice woe” rather sums-up the mood of the Tartan Army this morning, following our capitulation to the Swiss, then the way we collapsed like a leaking bouncy castle against the Slovenians at Hampden.

When, in the eighth minute of the game, the referee had his conversation with VAR and decided Jack Hendry's night was over, I knew, we were fucked. Against a nation ranked 30 places above us (13^th to our 43^rd) we were going to struggle to get a draw, far-less avoid defeat. The thing is, you would not, given the difference in rankings – the Swiss after all did reach the last eight of the last World Cup and have, in recent seasons, become serial qualifiers for the bigger shows – have backed a full-strength Scotland team, even at Hampden, to have beaten them – or, in spite of generations of evidence to the contrary, does the average member of the Tartan Army's PBI still think: “We're Scotland – we're good at this fitba lark.”

I am loath to criticise the squad who were on duty over this International Break. Of course, they themselves will be their harshest critics; they will feel they let themselves and Scotland down. OK, they beat North Macedonia, as expected but, overall, they lost twice to a better team on the night – that's a simple fact we have to accept.

Already, some of the Fans With Lap Tops are having a go at new Head Coach Sebastian Pocognoli, since under his command that old Scottish problem, a failure to score goals has continued. I canot blame the Belgian for the fact, we don't have an international-class striker in our midst. Even a man down, in the first half at least, we created chances. Yes, we fell away badly after the turn-round, but, better Scotland squads than this one have had bad nights in the Hampden office.

I am starting to feel, perhaps Pocognoli will suffer in the same way as Berti Vogts did when he got the Scotland job. Vogts inherited a squad which included several key players at or past the end of their international shelf life, needing refreshment but with a system which did not allow for the necessary change.

For as long as our major (and minor) clubs find it easier and more-convenient to import third and fourth-rate non Scots to fill their first-team slots, leaving young Scottish players on the fringes, we will struggle at international level. Mind you, even if they were to go down the road of exposing young home-reared talent to first-team play, given the huge divergence between pay in the Scottish top flight and in the English Football League – far less their Premier League, these youngsters would be hoovered up and off down the high road to England before they had even completed their football apprenticeship.

Barney Ronay of The Guardian, in a typically over the top English report on that nation's 3-0 defeat of Czechia on Tuesday night, claimed that in taking his England tally to 90 goals in 125 games, an impressive average of 0.72 goals per game, 'Arry was scoring international goals at an average no player had ever achieved before.

Aye Right!! Hughie Gallacher's 24 goals in 20 internationals – 1.2 goals per game, leaves Kane half a goal per game behind the great Wembley Wizard. (Of course, to the likes of young Ronay – football didn't exist prior to the establishment of the English Premiership).

OK, football in the 1920s and 1930s, when the likes of Gallacher and Jimmy McGrory (1.04 gpg at club level: 0.86 gpg at international level) was a very-different game from today. But, on the other hand, you have to wonder how Kane might have coped with the pitches, balls and equipment of those days.

What Scotland would give for a striker as prolific as Kane these days, but, to be honest, we have struggled to put the ball in the net at international level since the end of World War II.

In terms of length of international career and goals per game scored, Hibs' legend Lawrie Reilly is probably our top scorer in the post WWII period. Lawrie scored 22 goals in 38 games (0.58 gpg).

Denis Law – our joint record international goal-scorer, managed 30 goals in 55 games (0.54 gpg) while Ally McCoist, arguably our best pure striker since Law, only managed 19 goals in 61 internationals (0.3 gpg), although his overall career scoring rate does exceed the 0.5 gpg which has long been considered the benchmark for an international-class striker.

Kris Boyd, arguably our best penalty box predator since McCoist, may have scored over 300 goals in his career, but, at an overall average of 0.44 gpg, while his international record (7 goals in 18 caps) gives him only a 0.39 gpg average.

A lack of scoring ability up front is not a problem I can see our new Head Coach answering any time soon, particularly if Scottish players continue to struggle for playing time in even a league as average as our top flight, far-less in England's top flight, or one of the elite continental leagues.

I see dark days ahead for the Tartan Army – their new Belgian CO has had a very short honeymoon.

 

Has St Martin Reached His Sell-By Date?

RECEIVED KNOWLEDGE in Football has it that a club manager has a “limited shelf life” and at some point, unknown when he is appointed, the playing squad will stop listening to what he says. Again, current thinking puts that down to perhaps that shelf life being, at most, five seasons, after which it's time to change managers.

This takes scant, if any, cognisance of the lengthy careers of the great old-time managers: the decades during which Bill Struth ran Rangers, Willie Maley managed Celtic, “Sailor” Hunter had the reins at Motherwell and so on. In England, Matt Busby managed to produce great teams across three decades at Manchester United, Bill Nicholson worked wonders across many years at Tottenham Hotspur, however, in the modern era, perhaps only Alex Ferguson, again at Manchester United, has come close to matching the lengthy reigns of those mentioned above.

His years at Celtic have been broken by absences, but, after the events of the past week, might we be seeing the dying days of Martin O'Neill as a Celtic icon? Struth's final years at Ibrox brought few trophies, might the same be about to happen to St Martin?

I attracted some scorn when, in the early weeks of this season, as his team struggled, I suggested Derek McInnes just might turn things around sooner than those disenchanted glory hunters who were calling for his head might imagine. Now, on the back of a six-game unbeaten run and back-to-back Old Firm wins, belief is growing among Ra Peepul.

The Premier Sports League Cup win at Ibrox was a fairly-straightforward, in some ways comprehensive home win. Sunday's win at Celtic Park was a totally different matter. It was 1-0 going on 4 or 5-1. Had Rangers scored the goals their build-up play merited, the 60,000 home fans, or at least the more-excitable element in The Celtic Family might well have carried out the biggest “brek-in” since 1909.

This Rangers squad remains a work in progress. The new faces McInnes has brought in (yes, even Emmanuel Fernandez), are starting to look like Rangers players. Some of the under-performers from previous seasons are now starting to look the part. They are not yet, however, performing as a good Rangers' squad is expected to, but, they are getting there.

The Celtic squad meantime, is going backwards. Colby Donovan is starting to look like a young player worthy of a Scotland call-up, but, that young man apart, over the past two games – the fixtures in which players on both sides are really measured – too-many Celtic man, even players cemented in place, have failed, badly. These are dire times for The Celtic Family.

A final thought on the problems afflicting under-pressure managers such as O'Neill. Back in the day, the alternative to a well-paid career as a full-time footballer was a return to, perhaps, going down the pit, or into the steel works; today's stars, if they fail, or perhaps don't like how their manager or head coach speaks to them, can simply call-up their agents and tell him: “get me a move” - they then simply move to another club, don't listen to their new coach and fail again.

OK, the maximum wage, the retain and transfer system and the fact, so little of the cash the game was making in the golden age of huge crowds went to the players has become the age when the players rule the roost – but, were the old days really so bad? Certainly the great managers of the past did not have to deal with agents, wall-to-wall television and the like. You have to ask, how might they have coped?

Another thing those old managers didn't have to deal with was the interruption to the season of internationals. I am working from memory here, but I seem to recall, prior to some season in the 1960s, even if you had half your regular first team called-up for an international game, you still had to play your club game. Then, the rule was introduced which said, if you had three players in an international squad, you could have your Saturday fixture postponed.

This meant, reserve players were blooded in games that mattered. Today, when the so-called International Window opens, the normal domestic game closes down, often for no discernible reason.

I can accept closing down the domestic calendar when Scotland has a home game at Hampden, but when, as on Saturday coming, the Scotland game is in far-off Slovenia, why shouldn't we have a domestic calendar of games? It's not as if too-many Scottish players are on international duty – only 7 members of new Head Coach Sebastian Pocognoli's 28-man squad (just 25%) are from Scottish clubs, and no club has even met the old three-men picked criteria for a fixture postponement.

OK, the Tartan Army will, as ever, invade Slovenia, but, what about the troops left back at barracks. Fine, the game is on BBC Shortbread, but, surely the Premiership could have continued as normal.

Yes, I know they will have players off playing for other countries, but, domestic football is run by The Scottish Professional Football League – so maybe the clubs should be forced to employ more Scottish Professional Footballers.

FINALLY – an interesting job appointment passed beneath the radar this week. I learned from the fact we are Facebook friends, that Iain King will, on 5 October, take up the post of Academy Director at Rangers, joining the Ibrox club from his current post in Cape Breton, Canada.

I worked with Kingie when he was a young journalist, learning the game in local newspapers in Ayrshire, prior to joining the nationals, where he rose to be Head of Sport, for The Scottish Sun – where he was also Right Worthy Master of the Lap Top Loyal. Then he handed-in his lap top and switched to football coaching.

He's A Real Rangers Man and given how well he has done on the other side of the Atlantic, I am sure he will bring much to his new job with the club he loves. It will not be immediate, but, before Kingie finally retires, I am certain he will have helped produce a steady stream of vibrant young SCOTTISH talent for the Rangers' first team.

 

New Beginnings And The Same Old Same Old

TIME WILL TELL, and hopefully, results for the Scotland team will qualify new Honcho Sebastian Pocognoli for a place in those pub quiz “Name ten famous Belgians” lists.

The new Head Coach has maintained a modicum of progression, by retaining 14 members of the 2026 World Cup squad, from which there were always going to be changes, given the injuries to the likes of Scott McTominay and Lawrence Shankland and the way some others have drifted away from regular club games under new management.

Pocognoli has named seven uncapped players in his first squad, which is:

Goalkeepers

Scott Bain Falkirk
Angus Gunn San Jose Earthquakes
Liam Kelly Rangers
Jon McCracken* Bradford City

Defenders

Luis Binks Brondby
Josh Doig Sassuolo
Colby Donovan Celtic
Luke Graham Stoke City
Jack Hendry Al Ettifaq
Aaron Hickey Brentford
Scott McKenna Dinamo Zagreb
Nathan Patterson* Torino
Andy Robertson Tottenham Hotspur
Kieran Tierney Celtic
Stephen Welsh Swansea City

Midfielders

Ryan Christie AFC Bournemouth
Lewis Ferguson Bologna
Billy Gilmour* Napoli
Lennon Miller Udinese
Kenny McLean Norwich City
John McGinn Aston Villa
Josh McPake Heart of Midlothian

Forwards

Kieron Bowie Sassuolo
Findlay Curtis Rangers
Ben Gannon-Doak AFC Bournemouth
Oli McBurnie Hull City
Robbie Ure Sevilla
James Wilson Heart of Midlothian

Whenever custody of the poisoned chalice that is the Scotland job changes hands, the relevant quote from Burns tends to be: “And forward tho' I canny see, I guess and fear”. Stevie Clarke will be a hard act to follow, but I wish the Belgian all the luck in the world, he's going to need it.

NOW I AM off the tools on a regular basis, I amuse myself by becoming a complaining old fart. “They'd never have got away with that when I was a boy” is something I say regularly as I peruse the efforts of today's working journalists.

That was certainly my thinking as I reviewed the SFA website this week and how they covered the draw for the First Round Proper of The Scottish Gas Men's Scottish Cup. The big brains along Hampden's Sixth Floor Corridor of Numpties pulled out all the stops, getting Raith Rovers' Paul Hanlon and Gordon Duncan (or should that perhaps be Gordon Who?) to make the draw.

The bulk of the website piece was all about Hanlon, who with the best will in the world, while he did make one full international appearance for Scotland, has never been more than a competent journeyman.

The news aspect of the story was the actual draw, they ought to have focussed on that rather than a puff piece on Paul. Any way, the draw is:

Scottish Gas Men's Scottish Cup First Round Draw

Beith Juniors v Huntly
Bo’ness United v Irvine Meadow XI
Bonnyton Thistle v East Stirlingshire
Brechin City v Buckie Thistle
Caledonian Braves v Fraserburgh
Civil Service Strollers v Formartine United
Clachnacuddin v Bonnyrigg Rose
Cumnock Juniors v Auchinleck Talbot
Cowdenbeath v Berwick Rangers
Deveronvale v Troon
Dunipace v Preston Athletic
Forres Mechanics v University of Stirling
Gala Fairydean Rovers v Largs Thistle
Haddington Athletic v Cumbernauld Colts
Hill of Beath Hawthorn v Glasgow University
Keith v Stonehaven
Kirkintilloch Rob Roy v Banks O’Dee
Linlithgow Rose v Clydebank
Lochee United v Inverurie Loco Works
Musselburgh Athletic v Lossiemouth
Nairn County v Gretna 2008
Newton Stewart v Johnstone Burgh
Penicuik Athletic v Kilwinning Rangers
Pollok v Albion Rovers
Renfrew v Broxburn Athletic
Rothes v Brora Rangers
Strathspey Thistle v Dalbeattie Star
Tayport v Wick Academy
Threave Rovers v Invergordon
Tranent v Turriff United

The obvious plum tie is the clash at Townhead Park of old foes Cumnock and Auchinleck Talbot, but there are one or two long distance meetings – Nairn County v Gretna 2008, Threave Rovers v Invergordon and Strathspey Thistle v Dalbeattie Star, to name but three. Bo'ness United and Irvine Meadow may no longer be the Junior Giants they once were, but there is enough history in that one to get excited.

Bonnyton Thistle v East Stirlingshire perhaps better than any other tie sums up the difference the establishment of the pyramid in Scottish football has made. You could never have seen that tie a decade ago. None of the 60 clubs involved is likely to still be in the running when the competition reaches its climax next year, but, for the moment, they can dream, and that's what fitba is all about.

ONE OF the regular readers of this pish, like me a distinguished alumnus of the finest Ayrshire Academy, contacted me on Sunday, following Rangers' win over the other lot, to enquire if I would be giving my opinion on the game. Like the vast majority of our Academicals, he is of a Rangers' persuasion – I am aware of a couple who sport green-tinged spectacles, but, the rest of us regard them with kindly scorn – accidents happen in even the best-ordered families.

I shall say only in the matter of Sunday's Ibrox game, perhaps Del Boy will be a millionaire, this time next year; however, I doubt that Celtic could be that bad again, moreover, should Rangrers emerge from this weekend's Celtic Park collision with even a point, then I could concede that perhaps the tide was turning.

In the aftermath, I must say, I have been thinking of a meme, popular on social media platforms such as Facebook – of Battery Sergeant Major Williams of It Aint Half Hot Mum, insisting: “Never have I seen such a blatant exhibition of poofery” as he reviewed the concert party's latest show.

The equivalent, in 2026, might be someone reviewing the follow-up to Sunday, and in particular the reaction of The Celtic Family to defeat: Never have I seen such a blatant display of Whitabootery.

For my part, I am more concerned with events at Rugby Park, where, to say Kilmarnock is struggling is to be guilty of under-statement. I was not at all surprised that Killie should lost a penalty shoot-out, this is a club which, after all, once went almost a decade without being awarded a penalty in open play – back in my younger days. I was, however, disgusted with the ineptitude shown by the penalty-takers against Aberdeen.

However, as a Rugby Parker since the 1950s, I was even-more disgusted by their inability to make the most of a one-man advantage for half an hour of normal time, plus the same of extra time – at home!!!

I have a lot of time for Neil McCann as a coach, I've kent wee Billy Dodds since he was at school, once kicking his erse after he announced that my oldest daughter had “an awfy nice bum” and here again, I hold him in high regard as a Coach. However, questions have to be asked over the managerial team's eye for a player – there are guys in that Killie team who would struggle to get a regular game in a good Ayrshire junior team.

This could be a long, cold and anxious winter for we Rugby Parkers.

 

Let's All Laugh At The Old Firm

THE GERMANS have schadenfreude – a feeling we Scots have admitedly bought into, but, we also have our own put down of those getting above themselves: “Him – Ah kent his faither.” We get a lot of fun out of seeing those who would put themselves above us, standing there with egg on their faces.

Thus, today is a good day for those of us who follow Scotland's “Diddy Teams” - those clubs who are not Rangers and Celtic. After Celtic's pratt-fall in Austria on Tuesday, social media was hit by a tsunami of celebratory posts from followers of the other one of The Bigot Brothers, absolutely relishing the pain, the wailing and gnashing of teeth among The Celtic Family.

I warned several gloating Huns down here in God's Orange County: “Don't get carried away, are you sure your bunch can defend a one-goal, first-leg lead?” They were all utterly convinced, Rangers' visit to Czechia was a mere formality; well, they ken noo, it wisnae.

Some of the fall-out has been spectacular. The calls for Derek McInnes' head have already started. Aye, that's the easy way out – sack the Manager, it's a lot easier than getting rid of the many members of the squad who have shown themselves to not be Rangers' class.

As a wee side issue here; I had to laugh at one post on Facebook, which laid the blame for Thursday night's massive Big Reddy in the hands of Sir David Murray. David Murray sold the club in May 2011, 15 years and ten managers ago. He would probably admit, he got one or two things wrong during his spell as owner, but, to blame him for Thursday night's debacle is pushing it a good bit.

I have long argued, the trouble with Rangers ar the moment is – they have a squad which is top-heavy with expensively-acquired non-Scots; badge-kissing mercenaries who arrive without a clue what they are getting into. They are joining a club where victory is not expected – it is DEMANDED.

We are told: “professional sport is all about winning”. That simple explanation does not quite cover what is demanded of Rangers' players and I've got the feeling, too-many of the current squad are simply not winners.

The strange thing is, Thursday night's reverse might be the break McInnes required as he builds the team he wants. Free from the unreasonable European expectations of the many glory hunters in the fan base, he can concentrte on domestic football and be better prepared for another tilt at Europe next season. Having seen what he did at other clubs, I believe McInnes has it in him to be a winning Rangers' manager, if he is allowed to clear-out the many Not Rangers Class players in his squad.

Sure, at lesser clubs, they could maybe do a job, but, it is already clear, some of them lack the mental strength to cope with the pressure to win which is thrust upon Rangers' players. I have long argued, Rangers' main problem is – they lack a spine of Rangers Men, Fans on the Park – Scotsmen who have been brought-up to know what playing for the club involves.

I said, back in 2012, when the institution was sent down to the lowest senior level in Scotland, what the then management ought to have done was: go with a squad of mainly young Scots, with one or two more-experienced players to add steel. Allow those kids to get used to winning as they progressed back up through the leagues, and by the time they got back to the domestic top flight, they would know what it meant to play for Rangers and would be ready.

Mind you, the argument against bringing-in more Scots includes the fact, it was a couple of Scots – Findlay Curtis and James Penrice who missed the crucial penalties on Thursday night.

What about Celtic then. Well, I wasn't surprised that they were turned over in Austria, LASK gave them a lot of problems at Celtic Park in the first leg, but had absolutely no luck in the Celtic red zone. I felt then, if they got one goal in the home leg, they could easily get four and while that early Celtic strike did cause me to have doubts, once LASK got their second goal, I knew they would win it.

The Celtic squad is not as poor as the one across the city, but, they lack a genuine spine and the lack of playing numbers from The Celtic Family is hurting them. Right now, in domestic Scottish Football, the Old Firm duo's best players are those Scottish referees who continue to make the honest mistakes which benefit the big two.

I doubt that we will ever see a truly level playing field in Scotland, but, right now, the Big Two are handicapping themselves with too-many inferior foreign imports, so really, a well-organised Diddy Team should be capable of upsetting them, then, all we would need is half-decent referees and who knows what might happen.

Just a final wee thought – how far could this Celtic team go in the Europa League?