A Tough Group - But, Not Just For Celtic

I FIND myself growing to like Neil Lennon more and more with each passing week. The lack of any kind of challenge domestically has been good for the wee man - I often felt he allowed himself to become carried away with all the Old Firm nonsense, without that distraction, he has been able to concentrate on management and his stature has grown.

 

Of course, Celtic are in what the tabloids will surely call: "The Group of Death" in the Champions League; but, as Lennon himself pointed out, Celtic's stature is such that, while they will be rated as the outsiders, they bring a share of the glamour to this most-glamourous of the groups.

 

That Celtic are rated so low isn't entirely their own doing, they might not be getting the regular exposure at the really sharp end of the competition which was the norm during the Stein era, when the last eight was the least the Celtic family expected, but, Celtic and Celtic alone have been upholding the Scottish co-efficient these last few years.

 

If the other Scottish clubs had performed with any sort of consistency and got through the occasional qualifying round, then Celtic would have been in a higher pot this time round.

 

OK, the current team are no Lisbon Lions, but, as they proved last season, they can still bite in Europe and you can be sure, Barcelona, AC Milan and Ajax will know, they face hard games home and away against Celtic, while the prospect of facing a charged-up Parkhead full house will not exactly fill them with over-confidence.

 

Also, we are judging these teams by previous standards. Barca are not the team they were even three years ago, AC are a long way short of the great teams of the past, such as the Van Basten/Gullit/Reijkhard/Baresi/Maldini ones. Ditto, there is no Cruyff, or any of the above-named Dutch legends in the current Ajax line-up.

 

Getting through that group into the last 16 will be a huge ask, but, I wouldn't write-off Neil Lennon's Celtic. This current crop of Celts seem very "Scottish" to me - don't worry about them when facing a so-called "big" team, but, be very concerned when they are expected to triumph - which is clearly not the case in this CL group.

 

As I said above, the last 16 will be a big ask - grabbing the consolation Europa League spot and going far in that competition is not beyond Lennon's Lads.

 

 

 

THE lady in my life lives a long goal kick from Rugby Park and, on Tuesday night, because we arrived back from London and I had driven up from the Imperial Capital, I wasn't able to go to Rugby Park for the League Cup tie against Hamilton.

 

However, as I unwound on her patio I could clearly hear the crowd noise (more of a whisper actually) from the ground. It was clear there weren't many fans there, but, unless Celtic are calling, there never is a big crowd there these days. It was also clear that Killie were struggling and I knew from the noise that Accies had scored the only goal of the game.

 

But, I was totally unprepared from the reaction I got from a very prominent and long-standing Killie fan when I bumped into him in the Crosshouse Hospital car park (bumped into him, not his car, I should add). He was still livid and apparently, just a matter of weeks into his reign, Allan Johnston is almost as unpopular among the fans as namesake and chairman Michael.

 

The "Magic" has gone, apparently. Come on lads, give him a chance, after all, he took a wee while to gel in the calmer watrers of Palmerston.

 

Fans today - instant success or else.

 

 

Promised Land Reached - Well Done Celtic

I SAID last night would be "squeaky bum time" at Celtic Park, and, I was right. As old Craigie Broon spent years telling us: "there are no easy games these days" and the Kazaks were never going to lie down and roll over as "diddy" foreign teams once did in the face of a fired-up Parkhead.

 

However, in the end, even though they left it late, Celtic took their place in the Champions League group stages and well done to them. How far they go, we don't yet know, we must wait to see which group they end up in and how their opponents are playing. But, good luck to them.

 

Maybe the Kazaks' mistake was sacrificing a sheep for luck before the game - had they sacrificed an Aberdeen supporter, it might have turned out differently.

 

 

 

THE Rangers brand made great play of signing-up James Traynor as 'Head of Media' earlier this year, at a presumably nice big wedge.

 

Now, until he began to believe his own BBC/Daily Record-generated publicity and visualise himself as: 'The Thinking Man's Chick Young' - young James, though not even the best football writer in his family - elder brother John is the much-better wordsmith - was a terrific operator.

 

I don't see what Rangers are playing at hiring "media guru" Jack Irvine, when it comes to writing good copy, he cannot hold a candle to James Traynor. It is spending unnecessary money on things like hiring Jack Irvine, or paying consultancy fees to the likes of Charlie Green which will ultimately cost Rangers dearly.

 

Memo to Rangers - YOU ARE IN A HUGE HOLE - STOP DIGGING.

 

 

 

 

Scotland - A Very Foreign Land To The English

AS A young man, almost like a Mormon, I did my spell of duty as a foreign missionary, trying to teach guid Scotch ways to the good folk of West Yorkshire - only to find out the Tykes were simply well-adjusted Jocks what spoke funny: a chip on each shoulder: "There's nowt as queer as folk" instead of: "Here's tae us, wha's like us - damned few and they're awe deid"; aye, Scot and Tyke have much in common, particularly a dislike of them damned southern softies.

 

So, spending a few days in leafy Richmond, West London, I have re-discovered, as if I could forget, that, to the average chap from Greater London, Scotland is a small, far-away land, of which they know nothing and care even less.

 

Take the sports pages of the London papers. Narry a mention of that afternoon's Scottish football - just wall-to-wall papp about the mighty English Premier League.

 

Almost as bad on Sunday, with the Celtic score heading a single paragraph about the SPFL. Indeed, more coverage was given to the likes of the German, Italian, French and Spanish Leagues, than to events in Scotland.

 

Bloody ungrateful lot - we send them our brightest and best for over 100 years, we manage them, teach them to pass and play and they ignore us.

 

Of course, that attitude is a load of twaddle. The reality is, the EPL is such an over-bloated, over-rated competition, it gets publicity everywhere, even Scotland.

 

Maybe, if our national papers were to decide to NOT cover the EPL, but to put more resources into properly covering Scottish football, to bigging-up its good points (yes, there are some) and to trying constructive criticism rather than vainly trying to convince a body of fans who know better, that the product is any good - we might get the improvement we need and a better domestic game.

 

The EPL is the biggest enemy of the game in Scotland and the quicker our football authorities fight back and convince the papers to put Scotland first, then the better will be the health of the game in Scotland.

 

Of course, that healthier game will only arrive once the blazers extract their digits from their bottoms and make it better.

Squeaky Bum Time At Parkhead

THAT Titan of the sports-writing game, my fellow Ayrshireman Hughie McIlvanney once suggested that were "Smokin' Joe" Frasier and Mohammed Ali ever to find themselves in adjacent wheelchairs as a couple of ninetysomething care home residents, they would still put on a fight which would show-up 21st century boxing for the farce it was.

 

Similarly, were Celtic and Rangers to be relegated to playing park football on Glasgow Green, the enshrined mutual dislike would ensure a bloody but enthralling 90 minutes, any day of the week. As one former Rangers captain once told me: "Because we spent so much time together with Scotland, and used to meet-up in the city centre in the afternoons, the players always got on well together - but we were careful not to let the fans know this. But, put us on the park at the same time and, for the 90 minutes, it was war - these opponents, above all others, had to be beaten".

 

I reckon, unless the present-day Celtic give themselves a real shake next week, the loss of the traditional Old Firm fixtures will truly hit home. Overturning a two-goal deficit in Europe is not beyond Neil Lennon's men. In front of the usual band of screaming supporter suspects, inside the cauldron that is Celtic Park on big European nights, beating Borat's Boys, ought not to be an over-taxing ask.

 

However, the question is - can Scott Brown carry this current lot over the line? The Artmedia game is often brought-up when speaking of Celtic's disasters in Europe. But, it has to be remembered - WGS's team nearly over-hauled a five-goal deficit; therefore, a mere two-goal handicap should not be beyond this current team.

 

I am not so-sure. Celtic seemed occasionally vulnerable last season, albeit mainly on the road. If the necessary early goal doesn't come along in the second leg. If the team from Kazakstan can frustrate and foil, things might get a wee bit tetchy up Kerrydale Street.

 

When Rangers went down the road of recruiting a squad of mainly non-Scots, it was hard to reason against their managers. European football calls for a level of technical excellence which has been beyond all but a tiny percentage of football-playing Scots. However, as I have long argued, pulling-on a blue or green and white hooped shirt brings with it demands which are not expected of players with other Scottish clubs.

 

The Old Firm always needed a solid core of "fans on the park" - the current Celtic team is, I feel, a wee bit lacking in this department.

 

They should still be good enough to overhaul the opposition and reach the Champions League group stage. If they fail, and, given the defensive frailties demonstrated in the first leg, potential failure and early elimination cannot be totally ruled-out, it will be a hard blow to the buy-cheap, develop and sell-on management strategy being pursued.

 

But, a season of domestic service just might force Neil Lennon and his paymasters to pay more attention to bringing through some of the potentially-exciting young Scottish players at the club who, at the moment, cannot break through the glass ceiling which is a place on the first team bench, to make up the numbers.

 

At least, on the Monday-to-Friday banter battlefield of the West of Scotland workplace, the chance to (temporarily) mock Celtic-minded workplace colleagues, which Tuesday afternoon's set-back offered the hard-pressed Rangers fan, has been off-set, for the Celtic-minded, by yet another twist in the continuing soap opera across the city.

 

Chuckkie boy gets his jotters - cheers from Ra Peepul - then young Darren Cole gets told to stay away from Murray Park, after a breach of discipline. What did he do? Take Ian Black's line to the bookie's?

 

 

Ian Black - A Handy Wee Smokescreen For Greater Guilt

I AM rapidly coming to the conclusion we are somewhere in the middle of Act II of Wagner's Gotterdammerung - The Twilight of the Gods - at least where the brand known as Rangers is concerned.

 

For some time now I have felt there was a lot of whistling in the dark going on inside The Celtic . Family. They accept that Rangers are down, brought to their knees by David Murray's bungling mis-management and over-spending; then whacked on the back of the legs with a pick-axe handle by Craig Whyte - before HMRC delivered the final boot to the goolies.

 

But, TCF were whistling in the dark, waiting for the dreaded moment when the big, wicked ogre rose to his feet again and started throwing his considerable weight around. I got the impression some in TCF felt, if they shouted, over and over and often enough: "Youse is deid", the big blue beast known as Ra Peepul would lie down and admit: "Aye, you're right, we're deid".

 

However, that hasn't happened. The beast got off the floor and last season managed to crawl through SFL Division Three into the new SPFL League One, from whence further upward progress is expected.

 

Ra Peepul haven't given up the ghost, nor have they learned humility. If anything, they have shown more cohesion and spirit than they did, even during all the years of (domestic) success and excess which followed the Souness Revolution in 1986.

 

Now, as each new sensation is revealed, I wonder - would it not have been better to have allowed the beast to die.

 

Let's face it, when the extent of Rangers' problems - even without the long-drawn-out sage of "The Big Tax Case" - became known, Scottish football panicked. They might have been big, bullying bastards, but - the rest reasoned - they are our big bullying bastards, and, they, by and large, keep the other big bullying bastards, the Irish ones - in their place. That was the reasoning, at least in the board rooms.

 

Had the ordinary fans not rebelled - I am sure the Hampden blazers would have allowed the Rangers Newco to carry-on, as before, in the SPL. Then, once the blazers realised, the fans wouldn't allow their nice wee stitch-up, they came up with a hurried compromise which allowed the Newco to play-on and keep Ra Peepul marching and singing.

 

I said at the start of Oldco Rangers' administration, Scottish Football was hurrying to keep the Rangers brand alive and this was a bad thing. Time has proved this to be the case.

 

Today, we have intercine strife at board room level, spivs arguing over share ownership and pricing and a bunch of unsavoury characters, some of whom make Craig Whyte look like a respectable businessman, vying for the right to be Mr Rangers.

 

It might have helped, had the team been able to continue to roll-over their part-time opposition in League One, but, losing to Forfar has cast doubts on the abilities of the players. The last thing the Rangers brand needed was for a senior player to be cited for breaching the SFA's rules.

 

This whole Rangers mess, although it was self-destruction on a grand scale, could have been cleaned-up much more quickly had there been the will and the know-how within Hampden's corridors of power to do  this.

 

Soft-pedalling on this club has now come back to haunt the SFA and the League on a grand scale. And, believe you me, it will get worse before it gets better.

 

Ian Black has long proved, by his on-field behaviour at his previous clubs, that, he never was and never will be: Rangers Class. However, I now see his current travails with Mr Lunny and the disciplinary system as a handy wee smokescreen for the greater sins of others not too far from the Blue Room.

 

 

Rangers Monopoly - It Could Catch On

THAT was a nice wee break, concentrating on football and Scotland, rather than finance and Rangers, for a day or two. But, with the national team put back in the box until next month, it's back to this obsession with the spivs playing Monopoly with real money around Rangers.

 

I am surprised nobody at Waddington's has come up with a football version of the game, based around Rangers FC. The tokens would be good for a start - you could have a bowler-hatted, suited, sash-wearing "Old Rangers Fan" token; various different types of "spivs" - a camel-coat-wearing "respectable business-man" for instance; there might be a gowned, be-wigged advocate (even Donald Finlay-style "dundreeries"), to represent the law's interest in the club; a club-wielding neanderthal - let's call him "Bomber"; and a figure of a journalist (lap-top in one hand, knife and fork for dealing with the "succulent lamb" in the other) - a "lap-top loyalist"; and, of course, there would also have to be a blazer-wearing administrator and a foreign-looking footballer, standing on a wad of cash to symbolise his EBT; and finally, a grey-haired man in a cardigan.

 

Instead of going to Jail - you might be sent to work on BBC Scotland's Sportsound; free parking would be in a bus inside a penalty area; rather than Community Chest - how about HMRC as a source of fresh funds.

 

You could purchase blocks of seats, put up sponsors'boxes, buy newspaper columns. Yep, I think Rangers Monopoly might be a goer.

 

 

 

I SEE the St Mirren director behind the (yawn, yawn) fans' buy-out has resigned from the board. In real terms, St Mirren is probably as good a Scottish club as any for someone to buy. Except, nobody in their right mind would buy a Scottish football club.

 

We really need to go down the road of fans-owned clubs. When the game began, back in the 1970s, it was by and large the players who owned and ran the clubs; then, around the end of the 19th century and the start of the 20th, it made more sense to go down the road of limited companies, shares and money-making.

 

I think that business model has run its course and we should get back to community clubs, which, if they  have to be limited companies, ought maybe to be run on a "not for profit" basis.

 

The most-successful fans-owned club in the whole wide world of sport is the American Football franchise, the Green Bay Packers. This club is owned by the people of Green Bay. You buy a share, it entitles you to turn-up once a year and have your say at the annual meeting; that share has no value, it cannot be traded like normal shares. You might, if you're lucky and have bright ideas, get to have a little influence, but, the club is run by its CEO, who is answerable to the fans, who own the team and let him get on with running it.

 

I once read a lengthy Sports Illustrated piece on how Green Bay works. British company law means the American model cannot be immediately transplanted to British, even Scottish Football - however, with a wee bit of tweaking, the Green Bay model could work in Scotland.

 

But, I cannot see another fans-owned model which could be adapted to Scottish football - even though,fan ownership is, to me, the way ahead.

 

 

 

MY DISDAIN for my English football-writing colleagues is well-known. They are even more myopic cheer leaders for their national side than the SFWA's "Fans With Typewriters" at their worst.

 

So, a tip of the cap to the Mail's Jeff Powell for his post-Wembley piece this morning, acknowledging just how poor England were in beating Scotland in midweek. A helathy dose of reality - let's hope it spreads.

 

Speaking of reality, forget all the pats on the back we have given our team and our fans for Wednesday night. We still lost two dreadful set-piece goals to a limited side. I fear what Belgium might do to us. We've still got a long way to go and losing an old-fashioned British cup-tie by a single goal is a different matter from facing a technically-proficient European side.

 

Leaving aside out loss in Belgium earlier in this qualifying campaign, in five complete qualifying campaigns against the Belgians, for the 1972, 1980, 1984 and 1988 European Championships and the 2002 World Cup, our record reads: played 10, won 2, drawn 2, lost 6, goals for 10, goals against 21.

 

Those two wins came, firstly, at Pittodrie in 1971: Tommy Docherty's second game in charge. The Scotland team was: Bobby Clark; Sandy Jardine and Davie Hay; Billy Bremner, Pat Stanton and Martin Buchan; Jimmy Johnstone, Alex Cropley, John O'Hare, Stevie Murray and Eddie Gray; oh, and a youngster named Kenny Dalglish came off the bench for his first cap in the second half in a 1-0 win.

 

The second win came in 1987 at Hampden; our team, which won 2-0 was: Jim Leighton; Stevie Clarke and Maurice Malpas; Roy Aitken, Gary Gillespie, Alex McLeish; Ian Durrant, Paul McStay, Ally McCoist, Mo Johnston and Ian Wilson, with Derek Whyte and Graeme Sharp coming off the bench in the second half.

Earlier this week we failed to beat the 14th best team in the world, next up is Belgium, the tenth-best team, and one much better technically than England. I don't see us winning, even with home advantage.

As the Under-21 result demonstrated, WGS is building bricks without straw. The SFA's blazers want us to be back playing against England regularly. This is all bread and circuses and means, they can again get away with doing nothing to address our decline.

Let's Get Organised - Or We Will Fall Further Behind

LAST night's result doesn't look any better in the cold light of day. We had a really good chance of beating England, but, not for the first time, we came up short. Aye, I'm not happy, but, having survived 7-2 in 1955, 9-3 in 1961, 4-1 in 1969, 5-0 in 1973, 5-1 in 1975 and one of two occasions when we have snatched a draw from the jaws of victory, a 3-2 loss I can take.

 

But, what I cannot take is the way we lost, to two set-piece goals. England played most of the football, that we have to accept. They passed the ball better, but, like so-many English sides, Arsenal in particular, they can pass the ball around all day in front of a well-organised defence; they are not very good at passing THROUGH a well-organised back line.

 

I still maintain, had big Grant Handley not been off the park for treatment to a cut head, Theo Walcott would not have scored their equaliser; Handley would have come across and cut-out the threat, once he got that half-yard away from Steven Whittaker. Then, with us leading 1-0 at half-time and Kenny Miller scoring early in the second half, it's a different ball game, with the English fans on their team's back.

 

Then we come to the two set-piece headers. I don't expect WGS to be having to coach his squad; by the time players get to the level of the national team, I expect them to be able to trap a ball, give a pass to feet and at least have a basic level of technical ability. Some of the current squad barely meet base-line international level, but, that's not Strachan's fault, that's down to their clubs. It is far-too-easy to become a "professional" footballer in Scotland today - our clubs' standards are too-low.

 

What I do expect Messrs Stewart, McCall, McGhee and Strachan to be able to do, however, is come up with a cogent and workable framework for us to deal with set pieces. Have it worked-out in advance: will we man-mark or will we mark space zonally; who will mark whom; who organises our set-piece defence, the goalie or a nominated defender. It seemed to me we didn't have those basics worked-out last night.

 

I appreciate, Handley and Martin are the future in the centre of our defence; I am all for allowing them to grow-up and into the jerseys. BUT, against England, I might have considered Andy Webster's experience as potentially crucial, not least in the organiser's role. However, for some reason, WGS doesn't seem to rate the Hearts' man.

 

For the England winner, it looked to me as if Scott Brown was marking Lambert. Broonie gave a great lead, if fit, he will be our captain until, if he does, Darren Fletcher returns. But, the marker of a big, old-fashioned English target-man centre forward he never was and never will be. The obvious match-up was surely for one of the centre-backs to be on Lambert, with Charlie Mulgrew marking that man's designated target. What happened? Did we switch-off? Did we mess-up? We need to sort this out before we get conned again.

 

 

 

ANYWAY, the England game is history - where do we go from here? We can only hope our recent improvement continues for the remaining dead rubbers in our World Cup group. WGS now has a chance to build a squad ready for the European Championship qualifiers kicking-off in a year's time. However, what more can he and, more particularly the SFA, do to help us on our way?

 

For a start, while I see no point in playing an annual cup tie against England. And, having put the "Sweaties" in their place, I don't see the FA being too-bothered about regular games, even though the poor, deluded Tartan Army will, at the drop of a sporran, happily fill their coffers for them, and money does talk.

 

If I was WGS I'd be looking to fine-tune the short-lived Celtic Tournament against Wales and the two Irish sides. Three games against our closest neighbours could be marvellous for building squad togetherness and confidence - provided we made these games 'B', 'Futures' or 'Development' games.

 

All four Celtic nations have a small core of virtual ever-presents. For us, if fit: McGregor, Hutton, Brown, Morrison, Snodgrass, Maloney, Miller, the two Fletchers and Naismith have been there, done that and got the caps.

 

Suppose we limit our Celtic Tournament squad to three of these elite level players, plus maybe another three players who have more than five caps - the rest of the squad have to be either Under-23 or have less than five caps, or preferably both.

 

That way we can try new permutations, allow players to make the considerable leap from Under-21 to full internationals, but not, in the process, harm our FIFA and UEFA co-efficients.

 

If not the Celtic tournament, why not a North Sea Championship every spring, again for development teams. I reckon Sky or BT Sport would happily cover a Scotland v Sweden v Denmark v Holland tournament for 'Development Squads'. Such a tournament is maybe the only way Scottish players will in the short-term, learn how to play against the more technically assured Europeans. Which would be no bad thing. 

 

 

We Lost, But, For Once, I'm Not Overcome With Grief.

HAVING endured a good few Wembley heartaches, I didn't burst into tears when England scraped home tonight. Maybe a draw would have been a fairer result, but, I don't think we did enough in attack to be able to justify a We Wuz Robbed response to the loss.

 

A few sriblled observations during the STV coverage.

 

The National Anthem - Why cannot the Tartan Army keep in time to Flower of Scotland, even when, as tonight, it is played by a combination of pipe and military bands, the TA seems unable to resist beating the band to the finish. The Hooray Hamishes at Murrayfield can manage it, why not the fitba fans?

 

I thought we won the anthem battle - we out-booed them.

 

A brilliant opener from James Morrison, but, what about Joe Hart? Had Allan McGregor let that one in, the English media would have gone into overdrive about it. If Hart is indeed their best keeper, they've got real problems.

 

I felt England got all the favours from the referee. There was clear foul by Steven Gerrard on Robert Snodgrass which wasn't given; then Allan Hutton won a clear corner off Danny Welbeck and he gave a goal kick to England. Then, in the second half, there was that definite second yellow card which Kyle Walker didn't get. England going down to ten men at that point, and it's a different ball game.

 

We knew, if he got a chance to exploit his pace, Theo Walcott could hurt us; and he proved it with the England equaliser. Just a pity Grant Handley was off the park at the time, since Walcott ended up in the area he would have been covering and I'd have backed him to stop the attack.

 

I felt putting Frank Lampard on at half-time was a clear indication of how worried Roy Hodgson was at the break. Lampard definitely gave them a wee bit more go-forward impetus.

 

What a finish from Kenny Miller, that goal alone justified his inclusion, which I admit, I wasn't happy about. I thought at first he had controlled the cross with his hand, but, on replay, it looked like his chest and all too-often, we don't get such breaks. Terrific finish though.

 

England's second equaliser was a bad goal to lose. Scottish teams, at all levels, have a problem with crosses into the edge of the six-yard box, time we sorted-out this failing.

 

I wondered at WGS replacing James Forrest with Charlie Mulgrew. I thought Forrest played well, but, he learned at Wembley that he needs to find a wee bit more to get past better defenders than he faces on a weekly basis in Scotland.

 

I feared, Mulgrew coming on was an acceptance that we would be happy with a draw - which I'd have taken. But, this was a match we could still have won at 2-2; I would maybe have sent-on Steven Naismyth earlier than WGS did.

 

England's winner was another terrible indictment of our failings at set-pieces. That said, big Lambert took the header well. However, the goal came from a corner kick, which was taken from outside the arc. I know players get away with this on a weekly basis, and the corner was down at the end where there is no linesman.

 

But, the kick was taken illegally; however, this taking corners from outwith the arc is football's equivalent of the crooked scrum feed in rugby and, until referees sort it out, players will continue to try it on.

 

At the time, though, England were being the more positive side, so it would be a wee bit perverse to moan too much about this sharp practice. If we had got our marking sorted out properly, Lambert would not have scored. It seemed to me, Scott Brown was marking him and that is a definite mis-match.

 

A one-goal defeat to England, I can just about stomach. We know we are not a good side; maybe the way they struggled to beat us will convince some in England, they are not nearly as good as they think themselves to be.

 

England had the better players, but, we got more from our team as a unit than they did.

 

I remain unconvinced as to the usefulness of resuming regular games against the Auld Enemy. However, restoring the Home Internationals as an Under-23 tournament, a staging post between the Under-21 games and the full team, would, I believe, help both nations.

 

  

Flower o' Scotland - When Will We See Their Likes Again?

THIS is THE day - Them v Us is finally back on the football agenda, and, at 8pm tonight, I will be in front of my television, stomach tightening, waiting for the kick-off as, for the first time in nearly 14 years, we take-on England at Wembley.

Why aren't you going? I can hear you ask. Naw, Wembley is a young man's game; been there, done that, got the emotional scars - time for a new generation to enjoy/suffer as we once did.

 

Of course, my generation and ma faither's, while we took our licks, occasionally got to enjoy the journey and the old man was one of the lucky ones - he was there in 1928 when the wonder of Wembley was made to stick in Scottish minds, what a scoreline we produced on that glorious day, 31 March, 1928:

 

England 1 SCOTLAND 5

This was only Scotland's second Wembley visit, the first, four years pereviously, had ended as a 1-1 draw, with the now all-but-forgotten Willie Cowan of Necastle United, in his only international, becoming the first Scot to score at Wembley.

 

The 1926 match had gone to Manchester's Old Trafford, now, in '28, the Scots were back in London, albeit on something of a salvage mission. Wales had already won the Home International Championship, the Irish had embarrassed the Scots at Celtic Park and true to form, the selectors had panicked slightly, making a whole raft of changes and picking a side packed with Anglo-Scots, eight of them, for the Wembley trek.

 

Mind you, England weren't in good shape that season - sure, Everton's Ralph "Dixie" Dean was on his way to a grand total of 66 goals that season, but, well this England team was hardly a "Golden Generation". The teams were fighting to avoid the mythical wooden spoon, givent to the side which finished last in the Championship.

 

But, not even the Scottish press corps, those legendary "fans with typewriters" were building-up our side, which included two debutants: left back Tommy Law of Chelsea and centre-half Tom "Tiny" Bradshaw, from Bury, a town most Scots couldn't find with the aid of an atlas.

 

Alex James, seemingly a much-improved player with Preston North End from the debutant who had been cast out after an uninspring debut out of Raith Rovers two years previously, was re-called for his second cap, while his old school friend, centre forward Hughie Gallacher, was handed the centre forward's place, on completion of a two month ban for misbehaviour.

 

The team captained by the veteran Jimmy McMullan of Manchester City and amateur goalkeeper Jack Harkness, Time Dunne of Hibs and Rangers' Alan Morton were the three home-Scots in a side which read: Harkness (Queen's Park); Nelson (Cardiff) and Law (Chelsea); Gibson (Aston Villa), Bradshaw (Bury) and McMullan (Manchester City); Jackson (Huddersfield Town), Dunne (Hibs), Gallacher (Newcastle United), James (Preston North End) and Morton (Rangers).

 

Legend has it that, when the selectors ordered the players upstairs, so they (the "blazers) could enjoy "a wee swally" in the palatial central London hotel which was the Scots' HQ, McMullan gathered his players together and told them: "Go to bed and pray for rain".

 

They must have prayed hard, for, on the morrow - it was chucking it down, and, on a heavy pitch made for footballers, McMullan and Co proceeded to pass the English off the park.

 

Jackson became the first and still only Scot to score a Wembley hat-trick, while James, still some way short of the midfield passing machine he would become with Arsenal, bagged a brace.

 

On the Monday the Times of London waxed lyrical about the walking pace, passing moves put together by the victorious Scots as being: "almost like ballroom dancing". A legend was born, that of "The Wembley Wizards". Twenty-eight Scottish teams have followed in the Wizards' footsteps, hoping to embarrass, nay humiliate England, by winning on England's home ground. Only another eight have managed to win, but, none has come close to matching the Wizards' four-goal winning margin.

 

The match might have been meaningless - a third/fourth-place play-off in a four-team tournament, but, the result echoes on down the 85 intervening years. Flower of Scotland,when will we see their likes again?

 

How about tonight? After all, we don't rate Gordon Strachan's squad too-highly, but, the England squad is mince.

 

Come On Scotland - Gerrintaerum!!! 

The Winners and New Champions of the World - SCOTLAND

SEVEN down, two to go; we are nearly at the end of our wee trip to Wembley via Memory Lane.

 

Today we re-consider what I believe to be our second-best Wembley win; this came on 15 April, 1967 - the day we became "World Champions".

 

This title was thrust on Scotland by a piece of logic. The Tartan Army reasoned - Sonny Liston was Champion of the World, Cassius Clay (now Mohammed Ali) beat him - to become the new Champion of the World. If it works like that in boxing - why not in football?

 

England were Champions of the World - be beat them, therefore, surely we were the new champions?

 

When England had defeated West Germany at Wembley, in July, 1966, it had, although we didn't know it at the time, signalled the beginning of the end of the importance of the Home Internationals. The English suddenly realised there was a big wide world out there in which they could and should play a bigger role; beating the Jocks, the Micks and the Taffs didn't amount to a hill of beans.

 

Of course, to us up in that small, far-away country of which Middle England knew nothing and cared even less, the fact that they should have won the World Cup, whilst we were on the outside looking in, demanded a response - England had to be put in its place and where better to do it than Wembley.

 

That World Cup-winning England squad was in truth, not a bad team. Today, nearly half a century on, we can still accept that Gordon Banks is one of the five best goalkeepers there has ever been. He has certainly become over-rated in the intervening period, but at that time Bobby Moore was one of the world's top defenders, ditto Ray Wilson. Bobby Charlton's lofty place in the pantheon of great British footballers is a given, as is that of Jimmy Greaves, the man who didn't play in the final.

 

The rest,they were good club players, but, England won the World Cup because they had home advantage and Wembley still cast a spell on overseas players, but they won mainly because they had a terrific, bloody-minded manager who came up with a tactical plan to suit his players and stuck to it.

 

However, Scotland had more great players available to them than England, but, could rarely get them onto the park together and mentally ready to play as a team. In April, 1967, the selectors gave manager Bobby Brown the players, beating the World Champions gave them the motivation.

 

The Scottish players KNEW they were the better team; they KNEW they were more motivated, but still, they nearly lost it. Denis Law, one of the scarred victims of the 9-3 loss in 1961 wanted his revenge - by thrashing England with goals to spare. Jim Baxter, backed-up by Billy Bremner, wanted to: "humiliate them 1-0" - Baxter and Bremner won the argument; tease and torment them it would be.

 

Last week, finally getting to watch the flickering BBC black and white pictures of the game, the sheer scale of Scotland's win came back to me. Some of our inter-passing was like watching Barcelona, as Baxter, Bremner, McCalliog and Law inter-changed in midfield.

 

It was total football as Baxter dropped back to left-back to take the ball from Ronnie Simpson, then, with Eddie McCreadie running interference, as the Americans say, ahead of him, forcing Nobby Stiles and Alan Ball back to cover his run, and Bobby Lennox and Willie Wallace made diagonal runs to draw covering players wide, Baxter advanced, to find Law.

 

The game was a cup tie, the tackles were fierce - today's referees would have been dishing-out yellow cards left, right and centre, but back then, they got on with things and Scotland were in the driving seat.

 

Denis Law put us in front in 27 minutes, at a time when we were actually down to ten men, with Tommy Gemmell off the field for treatment. Jackie Charlton injured himself, trying to "do" Bobby Lennox and, while England re-adjusted in those days of no substitutes, we really should have established a three-goal half time cushion.

 

In truth, we ran out of steam, Wembley's lush turf was stamina-sapping at the end of a long season, but, Lennox made it 2-0, before the injured Charlton Major (as they say at public school), cut the deficit. However, debutant McCalliog had his greatest moment in 87 minutes when he fired home the winner.

 

Ronnie McKinnon - a true unsung hero on the day, made his only mistake of the day in 88 minutes - he maybe took pity on his immediate opponent and allowed Geoff Hurst out of his hip pocket  and the luckiest Knight in the land (think what Steve Redgrave, Chris Hoy and Bradley Wiggins had to do to get their Ks - Hurst only had to score two goals and be wrongly credited with a third to get his) thanked him by scoring a meaningless second England goal in the last minute.

 

Cue Scottish joy at the final whistle - we had indeed humiliated the World Champions.

 

We won, because, on the day our lesser players played better than theirs did. Sure, Baxter's wee bit of keepie-uppie near the end caught the eye. Of course Law was better than Greaves on the day, Bremner out-played Nobby Stiles, new boy McCalliog more than matched Bobby Charlton (Charlton Minor) and John Greig was better than rival captain Moore - but, the real damage was done by our "lesser" players such as full backs Gemmell and McCreadie, who were infinitely better than their more-celebrated (then) pair. Late call-up Wallace eclipsed Hurst as a second striker, Lennox, winning just his second cap, was far, far better than the over-rated and on this day anonymous Martin Peters and Ronnie McKinnon had the game of his life in blotting-out Hurst.

 

Not even Ronnie Simpson's family would try to claim he was a better 'keeper than Banks, but, on a ground which has so-often been a graveyard for Scottish goalkeepers, the veteran, winning his first cap, aged 36, showed all the calming experience he had garnered in his long career; for once, we were tight at the back.

 

The score may be down in the history books as 3-2 to Scotland; the truth is, in reality there were at least two, maybe three goals between the teams. Had it indeed finished 5-2, this would have ranked as our best Wembley win, instead, beating the then World Champions, on their own turf, is only worth second place.

 

And, this being a Scotland story, there has to be a sting in the tail. The match was a European Championship qualifier. The four Home Nations, all entering for the first time, were put in one group, using the Home Internationals also as their qualifiers.

 

This win put Scotland top of the table, but, a magnificent one-man show from George Best, in Belfast, in the next qualifier, under-mined our hopes and when we failed to beat the English at Hampden in February of 1968, they and not us, qualified - so, in the end, the wonder of Wembley proved to be meaningless.

Scottish Goalie A Wembley Hero - Shock

WEMBLEY Week is finally upon us - we have our pipes beneath our oxters, our kilts are neatly pressed, we've got a sporran full of oatmeal for the road, some Crawford's tartan shortbread, and tottie scones as well, and we're just about to paint ourselves with woad - to quote one of The Big Yin's great numbers from 40-years ago, when he was still funny.

The advance forces of the Tartan Army have already left, with the main body of the army ready to follow tomorrow and Wednesday. As even the GOC, Field Marshall Gordon Strachan has admitted - this one isn't "just another friendly". You bet, this one matters, a lot.

Legend tells us, back in time, when we were an independent nation, pre-match preparations, for such big games as Bannockburn, Flodden or Culloden would consist of a wee ceremony, when the names of our olden heroes were read out. That's kind of what this wee series of mine has been all about, and, we continue today with the tale of what I consider to be our third-best Wembley win:

England 1 Scotland 3: 1949

UNOFFICIAL international football during World War II was not a golden period for Scotland; certainly, courtesy of a late Jimmy Delaney goal, we did beat England in an unofficial "Victory" international in 1946, but this was one small triumph in a sea of setbacks which followed the end of that war.

By the time the invaders set off for Wembley in April, 1949, we hadn't beaten England in an official international for 11 years. We hadn't set the heather on fire in the first two full post-war seasons: 1946-47 and 1947-48, but, things had started to look up in the autumn of 1948 and the Wembley match with the Auld Enemy was again a Home International Championship decider.

England had won the Inter-League game and that victory was to be a pointer as to how the Scots might win at Wembley. Apparently there was somebody on the SFA selection committee who knew a wee bit about the game, for the selected Scottish team included a couple of unexpected picks, which, legend has it, were inspired by that Inter-League game.

Somebody within the corridors of power in Carlton Place, where the SFA's headquarters then were, had noticed that England centre-half Neil Franklin was a terrific player when given time on the ball, to set-up England attacks; but, he was less happy when hustled. The selectors also reckoned that, with Hibs outside left Willie Ormond injured, the sheer pace of his team mate Lawrie Reilly, usually a centre forward, just might pay off against an English defence which was perceived to be a bit slow.

So, into the side came the first and to this day only "Doonhamer" to be capped at full level by Scotland: Billy Houliston; the burly centre forward given instructions to "rummel-up" Franklin and veteran England goalkeeper Frank Swift, while Reilly was handed the number 11 jersey and told to run at the home defence.

The plan worked, but, only after as fraught an opening half-hour as any Scotland side has endured at Wembley. England came out with all guns blazing and immediately put the Scots under extreme pressure. But, came the hour, came the man, as goalkeeper Jimmy Cowan produced a performance which, over half a century later Sammy Cox, the Scotland left back, described as: "The finest display of net-minding I have ever seen".

Contemporary reports tell of six "world-class" super saves from Cowan, as England's two main strikers, Stan Mortensen and Jackie Milburn were repeatedly frustrated. And, on the one occasion he was beaten, Cox was on the goal line to clear.

Somehow, the Scots survived, then, inspired by their keeper's heroics, they began to turn the tide. Cox got on top of the feared Stan Matthews to such an extent, some of the English papers named him rather than Cowan as the Scottish hero.

On the other side of the park, big George Young, put the hems on Tom Finney, while, down the middle, Willie Woodburn was at his supreme best to get the better of Milburn.

Bobby Evans of Celtic, debutant George Aitken of East Fife, Third Lanark's Jimmy Mason and Derby Coounty's Billy Steel began to win the midfield battle and the tide turned.

Mason knocked home a Willie Waddell cross, cut-back to him by Reilly, in what was almost the first Scottish attack, in 28 minutes, and the Scots had a precious half time lead.

With Houliston spreading fear and alarm in the English rearguard as he repeatedly upset Franklin, and had the temerity to go in and shoulder charge Swift to the ground, in the second half, the Scots were emphatically on top.

Steel made it 2-0, seven minutes after the break; then, just after the hour mark, 20-year-old Reilly, the youngest man on the pitch made it 3-0 with a diving header and the English were rattled and beaten.

Cowan deserved a clean sheet, but, 15 minutes from time Milburn sneaked a consolation goal for the beaten home side, but, there was no way back for them and, when the final whistle blew, elements of the Tartan Army sprinted onto the park to carry Cowan, shoulder-high, to the dressing room.

The Scots had ended their long run of woe against their oldest opponents, they had lifted the Home International Championship, and had regained possession of the magnificent Jubilee Trophy, for the first time since being the inaugural winners in 1936.

This win was the first of four on the bounce during the calendar year 1949 and it left the Scots in confident frame of mind as they prepared to attempt to reach the World Cup Finals in Brazil the following year.

Sadly, as with so-many Scottish ambitions, things didn't work out as we had hoped.

Still, this was a terrific win; they beat a good England team, and beat them well. This match was crucial for Cowan, a Paisley Buddie who went over to the "dark side" to play for Morton. It was his first real test at international level and how well he rose to it.

Cowan had, however, shown he was a big match player when he had first burst onto the football scene, with a stand-out performance for a British Army of the Rhine team in beating a touring 'Scotland XI' - in effect the full Scotland team, in 1946. This fantastic first half display confirmed how good he was.

Cowan was the legendary figure, but, the whole 11 were heroes. The previous victorious Wembley teams, in 1928 and 1938, had been choc-a-bloc with Anglo-Scots, plying their trade with English clubs. This 1949 team was a home-grown unit, with only Steel playing his club football in England, for Derby County.

Cowan was with Morton, full-backs Young and Cox, centre-half Woodburn and outside right Waddell were with Rangers; right-half Evans was the solitary Celt, while left-half Aitken played his football on a Saturday for East Fife, after a week underground in the Fife coalfields. Inside right Jimmy Mason was the 33rd and last Third Lanark player to play for his country, centre forward Houliston was the first Queen of the South "cap" and Reilly was the sole representative of the reigning League Champions, Hibs.

There was no talk then of the English League being on a different planet from the Scottish one.