I KNOW fitba isn't one of the 17 Commonwealth Games sports, but, how could the organisers of the Commonwealth Games opening fail to get Glasgow's game into Glasgow's Games - particularly in a show being staged in one of the host city's three spectacular cathedrals of the beautiful game?
The failure to tip a hat to fitba - and square sausage - was a glaring omission from a show I enjoyed. At least, mince got in, with John Barrowman mincing around like a good, if bent un.
Captain Jack's full-on gay kiss with that kilted dancer kicked-up a social media storm, apparently. Not being on Facebook, or Twitter or any of the other social media platforms, I've to accept that on trust, sufficient to say - I didn't think their kiss was as heart-felt and genuine as yon time Gazza kissed Coisty - I mean, that had tongues and everything.
Any way, while the Games is copping all the attention - and what a storm after Daniel Wallace yelled: "For Freedom"!!! -so, how typical of the SFA/SPFL to kick-off the new season, at a time when nobody is watching.
OK, it's only yon wee diddy cup that the Rangers tribute act couldn't win, but, the kick-off of the Who The Fuck Is Sponsoring The Thing This Season Trophy does mark the official start of the domestic season.
Could they not have waited until the real athletes have left before bringing out the dross for another season?
OF COURSE our gallant European representatives have been back in European action and, to get three out of four through their first qualifying round ties wasn't bad.
I spoke to my Corstorphine resident pal this week, and she tells me the Celtic Family behaved themselves during their quick in and out to that douce Edinburgh suburb for their Murrayfield match with KR.
Well, after grabbing a win in the away leg in Iceland, Celtic were never going to lose in Edinburgh. I now fancy them to win their second qualifying round too, with a bit to spare.
Great win for Aberdeen in Holland. But, let's not build-up Del Boy into Fergie Reincarnated just yet, and, well done too to St Johnstone, advancing via a penalty shoot-out. I have a lot of time for big Tommy Wright, so I have. Onwards and upwards then. Motherwell losing was, well, predictable.
Meanwhile, the Tribute Act's pre-season tour of their American colonies is now back on-track after a dire start, while back home, from his Donegal lair, PMGB continues to obsess with their finances. The sad one-trick ponies, like the poor, are always with us.
Speaking of PMGB, the mad cousin of the Celtic Family, he and his decreasing number of acolytes back here were, apparently, in a bit of a fix after the CG opening ceremony.
I mean, God Save The Queen was heard in respectful silence at Celtic Park; wee Betty herself turned up, with Phil the Greek, and got a rousing reception; then the Red Arrows trailed red, white and blue smoke over the ground.
I hear a priest has been summoned to carry out an exorcism, before it will be safe for the GFITW to return.
Oh aye, and a Tongan boxer waved a Celtic top - that's Celtic Park for you, there's always Juan Guy making a prat of himself.
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