WHEN you're weary, feeling small, there is, I find, an instant first-thing-in-the-morning pick-up - log-on to Herald.co.uk and read my good pal Ken Smith's Herald Diary, it never fails to lift the spirit.
I particularly liked a couple of this morning's offerings - the Diary reader who suggests the new SPFL stands for: "Standards Plummet - Fans Leave" and the (probably Hibs) fan who recalls Vladimir Romanov promising that Hearts, under this control, would: "match Rangers and Celtic".
"Aye, he got it half right" says this Diary reader.
Last close season it was: "Let's all laugh at Rangers"; this time round it's: "Let's all laugh at Hearts". Schadenfreude is a feeling we Scots relish, but, given the overall state of Scottish football, it's more a case of: "there but for the grace of God".
Even Celtic, the biggest, the richest, the current market leaders need not feel too-smug, if Mr Desmond should slip crossing O'Connell Street in front of a bus, should the maintenance on his private jet not be up to scratch, should he get too close to a twitchy stallion at Coolmore or a frisky filly at Ballydoyle - then Celtic will be in deep doo-dah too.
Anent Hearts, Mr Southern blaming the fans for the club's current crisis reeks a bit of Marie Antoinette. Rangers got into deep shit because of David Murray's mis-management; Over-spending was the downfall of Dundee (twice - or was it thrice?), Motherwell and Dunfermline Athletic. The same management method has left umpteen other clubs, such as Kilmarnock, Ayr United, Morton and St Mirren in intensive care for long periods and has left three of the above-named quartet currently up for sale, with no realistic interest.
We, the ordinary punters, love our football, we just don't love the management morons in the board-rooms and technical areas, who have by their failings, brought Scottish football to its knees.
'Wad but some power, the giftie gie us.....' as The Bard wrote. Well, the blazerati in Hampden and some of the numpties in the various dug-outs are seen as just that numpties; how typically Scottish to join-in the laughter at us, rather than doing something to have us taken seriously.
WHICH reminds me, 50-years ago yesterday, in the Bernabeu in Madrid, Scotland beat Spain 6-2, still our best result outside the British Isles. The XI - Adam Blacklaw, Billy McNeill and Davie Holt, Frank McLintock, Ian Ure and Jim Baxter, Willie Henderson, Davie Gibson, Ian St John, Denis Law (captain) and Davie Wilson won it on a mixture of anger and chutzpah.
It was a "Fuck Youse" statement by a squad who had been decried and derided for surrendering a 3-2 lead in the final ten minutes to lose 4-3 in Norway, then been caught cold early-on and beaten 1-0 in Dublin.
"Bring them home - they're an embarrassment"; "Sack Law" - who had scored a hat-trick in Norway; "We'll get hammered in Spain": these were the measured opinions of that generation of football writers.
What did the players do. Well, there was a bomb scare at Dublin Airport - perhaps the work of the Tartan Army's terrorist wing, the Wee Arra Peepul? The players were ordered outside onto the tarmac, where Dave Mackay, challenged the rest to emulate his party piece: he would flip a half crown up in the air, catch it on his instep, flick it up onto his thigh, then onto his forehead, before dropping it into his top jacket pocket.
Baxter took-up the challenge, various wagers were struck and, by the time the bomb scare was over, the squad was happy and united. Law might have been captain on the day, but, pre-match Mackay, the real captain, said: "Go out there and show these journalists what you can do".
Six goals followed - all five forwards plus McLintock scored - and in the second half Baxter and Law led a piss-taking keep-ball session, which was roundly condemned by the travelling journalists.
Imagine today, IF (and I know this calls for a suspension of reality), Scott Brown & Co, with a four-goal lead, could play keep-ball against Spain, at Hampden. The massed "OLES" from the Tartan Army would drown anything ever heard in the Plaza de Torres, far less the Neu Camp in Barcelona.
La Toya Jackson, Chick Young and Co would probably criticise the team for not keeping the foot down and going for a six-goal lead.
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