Dominic Does Not Bend Under Pressure

AS WELL as covering football, I also pontificate a wee bit on Scottish Rugby. In this respect, I didn't always agree with new Celtic Chief Executive Dominic Mackay, (pictured below), but, I always respected the fact, he was by a country mile the sharpest of what I called “The Junta,” the small central core of paid executives inside Murrayfield. 

I was genuinely sorry for the SRU when they lost Dom to Celtic, but, I honestly believe, he will prove to have been an astute signing by the club. I can also tell the new Celtic manager, if he thinks he can, via the press and in person, bully Dom into allowing him to “spend, spend, spend” his way to success – as we say in Ayrshire, he's gonne get a gunk.

Dom knows very well, making money from professional sport is very-difficult and since the Scottish game does not have the global pull or the financial muscle to compete for the cream of the playing talent, Celtic, if they wish to recruit from lower down the food chain, will be unlikely to profit from buying second, third or fourth-rate talent.

I firmly believe, the absolute steal of all time in the transfer market was getting the Magnificent Seven for a mere £650,000. They are highly-unlikely to ever replicate that bargain.

I have long believed, our Scottish clubs should turn back the received wisdom within our game, which has been in-place since “The Graeme Souness Revolution” of 1986. In the 35 years since Souness joined Rangers, the myth has grown that Scottish players are shite, we no longer produce talent, and we have to buy-in ready-made talent.

I am convinced, if we go back to actively promoting young Scottish talent, nurture that talent and give them time to grow, we can get back to the glory days of home-bred Scots winning, in the manner of the Lisbon Lions, the Barcelona Bears and the Gothenburg Giants.

The test of a good coach is, can he improve the players under his charge, get them winning regularly, then keep them winning. Any fool can buy success, growing success is far-harder, but, I wager, more-rewarding.

I remember, over 25 years ago, at a Schools Cup Final, speaking to the two competing coaches. They were great friends, pillars of schools football – but, one had a season ticket for Ibrox, the other for Celtic Park. Their dearest wish, was to get a boy in First Year, coach and encourage him and, in time, see him running out in either the Rangers or Celtic first team.

In fact, the Celtic man told me: “There are over 400 Roman Catholic secondary schools in Scotland. I am no different from the vast majority of the football coaches at these schools, my dearest wish is to one day, see one of my boys wearing the hoops for the first team.”

That is the basic breeding ground into which Celtic can tap. It will not happen overnight, but, if they mine that potentially-rich field correctly, and employ good coaches, within a decade, Celtic could have an all-Scottish XI with the talent to compete for the big prizes.

Jock Stein did this with the Lions – remember, Jim Craig, Tommy Gemmell, Billy McNeill, John Clark, Stevie Chalmers, Bobby Lennox, Bertie Auld and, of course, Jinky, were “Kelly Kids” rather than “The Quality Street Gang.” The Lions need not be a one-of success.

THERE has been genuine sadness across Scottish football this week following the death, aged 63 of former Rangers captain Ally Dawson.

 

 

Dawson, a veteran of over 300 first team games for Rangers, the club he joined straight from school, is one of the less-celebrated former Ibrox skippers, indeed, when he was handed the armband, during the “wilderness years” between the days of Willie Waddell and Jock Wallace, first time round, it was said: “Rangers have more captains than Cunard,” as the job was passed around the squad.

However, Dawson did lead them to success during John Greig's ill-starred spell as manager and he was still there when the Souness Revolution started. His career was also upset by ill-timed serious injuries. However, he was recognised as a quality player, winning five Scotland caps between 1980 and 1983 – a period when Scotland was well-served for full-backs.

It didn't help him either that, when he broke into the Rangers first team, he was succeeding the legendary Sandy Jardine at full-back.

In 1987, he was off-loaded to Blackburn Rovers for £25,000. He later went to Malta where he enjoyed some success as a player-manager. Returning to Scotland, he had spells as an assistant coach with various Scottish clubs.

In latter years, Ally won new fans when he embraced walking football, where he combined being a competitive player, with passing-on his experience to guys who had never been close to the status of games he had enjoyed as a professional. He also returned to Rangers, passing-on his knowledge to the Academy boys and was praised for his work as manager of the Scottish Homeless football team.

His final years were beset by illness, resulting in his untimely death, far too early. He will be much-missed by his many friends in the game.

The SFA Are Ignoring A Great Opportunity To Sell Scottish Football

I SPLIT my sport watching pretty-much between football and rugby; Yes, particularly now the Olympics are under-way, I also look at other sports, but, the bulk of my time is devoted to the two different codes of football.

With the Junior teams now in the process of migrating across to the West and East of Scotland Leagues, football is now becoming more like rugby in that governance is now all under one roof at Hampden, however, the round-ball guys are still some way behind the oval-ball guys when it comes to other aspects of game management.

Football, or rather two Glasgow-based teams, grab the majority of the space on Scotland's sports pages, with rugby coming a poor second in the coverage stakes. Indeed, while the print media in Scotland appears to be withering on the vine, it is a self-evident fact, that while neither of Scotland's two “posh” papers – The (Glasgow) Herald and the (Edinburgh) Scotsman now has a staff writer bearing the title: “Our Rugby Correspondent,” both papers relying on the excellent and hard-working Edinburgh-based freelance writer David Barnes for their coverage.

The Herald, whose staff has truly been decimated from the days when it was a decent newspaper, still however finds the cash to have dedicated journalists covering The Old Firm, while across in Edinburgh The Scotsman's sister paper, The Edinburgh Evening News has dedicated journalists covering Hearts and Hibs.

The 2021-22 Scottish season is now underway, with the group stages of the League Cup, this year named The Premier Sports Cup. But, if you look at the sports pages, they are mostly about the two big Glasgow clubs and their latest transfer targets – or who the writers would like to think are their transfer targets.

This is not healthy. If Scottish football had really grown-up in its 148 year history, there would be more attention being paid to the other clubs playing.

There is an old saying, along the lines of; If the media does not meet your needs, become the media. I commend this action to the SFA and the SPFL.

If the papers will not cover more than the two big clubs, if the broadcast media cannot be bothered going too-far from their headquarters on the south bank of the River Clyde, then set-up your own media and tell the broader story.

For instance, the above-mentioned David Barnes, sensing the two Scottish papers which had long covered rugby were no longer interested in taking the game seriously, set-up his own media outlet: The Offside Line, which is now the go-to outlet for rugby news up here.

Is there no football journalist with the drive and ambition to do the same job for football?

The SRU's media department is, to be brutally honest and to use one of the S|RU's own favourite judgements: “not fit for purpose,” but, it still does a damned sight better job of selling football than the SFA's media department does in selling its game.

For instance, the official SFA website is tortuous to navigate around. I am currently doing research for a piece on the international team and trying to use the archive part of the SFA site – well, let's just say I gave up, it was such hard work.

Then, there is how they present news stories. This merely shows, they are not using journalists to put the pages together.

I would wager, the right stories, told in the right way, and concentrating as much on the “diddy” clubs as the big two, could make an SFA in-house website a must-visit site for today's fans.

Give it a try SFA and SPFL, you have nothing to lose but your image as a bunch of stumble-bums.

Glenafton Athletic and Junior Football Has Lost A Giant

SUNDAY was a sad day for the East Ayrshire village of New Cumnock, and for the local football team, with the passing, aged 80, of big Alex Jess.

Alex had been battling dementia for two or three years. I warned him, when his beloved Mary's failing health and his own advancing age caused him to move from his wee cottage, just across the road from my house and into sheltered housing in Cumnock. “Alex, I know you moving to Cumnock will double the average IQ down there, but, you going down there will be the death of you.”

Sadly, in very short order, he was diagnosed with dementia and the downward spiral began. He was up to see his cottage a few weeks back, but, it was clear then, he was not long for this world.

Alex was a passionate Novacumnockian, he loved this wee village, and for some years was an energetic Chairman of the Community Council. But, if he loved New Cumnock, he adored Glenafton Athletic. This was hardly surprising, he was born in Connel Park. The Glen's original playing field, simply called Connel Park, was at the end of the row where he grew up, he gave a lifetime to the club and was for many years club secretary, eventually becoming President.

He suffered the pain of Scottish Cup failure at the last hurdle, losing to irvine Meadow in 1963 and Auchinleck Talbot in 1992. But, a year later, in 1993, with Big Roughie as manager, the Glen finally landed the Holy Grail, that massive Scottish Junior Cup, beating Tayport 1-0 in the final at Firhill. This set the village off on a week-long bender, but, I vouch, nobody was happier that Sunday night, when the team brought the cup home, than Big Alex.

Even when off the committee he had graced for so long, Alex rarely missed a game. In a village where most of the natives are wee men, as broad as they are long, allegedly to fit into the narrow and shallow coal workings beneath the village, at six foot five, and with his bright red hair, Alex stood out.

His support for the club was absolute. I remember once, when some of the younger Glen fans were going off at the rival supporters during a match against Talbot, Alex cautioned them to calm down. “The Talbot fans are not your enemies,” Alex told them. Then dramatically pointing across Loch Park, he indicated a knot of Cumnock Juniors committee-men, up on a spying mission, since Cumnock would play the winners in the next round of a local cup. Alex said: “There's your real enemy over there – those Cumnock bastards.”

He had a sharp sense of humour when it came to football. One season, with the Glen in danger of relegation, he was delighted to see a former Glen player, turned referee, arrive at Loch Park to take charge of a veritable six-pointer. “I suppose, we'll be ok for a soft penalty tonight?” Alex asked of the official, to be greeted with a wink.

At half-time, with the Glen trailing, he again approached the official. “Hey Wullie – what about oor penalty?” he asked. The referee replied: “Alex, I cannot award you a penalty until you get into the opposition's penalty area.”

Things happened around Alex and football. He had a great story about selling Ted “The Tin Man” McMinn to Queen of the South. As he waited to go in for the vital talk about money with Willie Harkness, the Palmerston club's Chairman, two Doonhamers' fans arrived to get tickets for a forthcoming cup tie. Unimpressed by the professionalism of Mr Harkness and the club secretary, known to the fans as “Mrs Slocombe” after the character from the TV show 'Are You Being Served' – and also allegedly Harkness's nustress, one of the fans remarked: “What about that pair o' tits.”

Harkness immediately pulled himself up to his full five foot three or thereabouts and stood on his dignity, to defend the honour of the lady. Alex said, it was difficult to suppress the laughter when the fan told wee Wullie - “It isnae jist her, the baith o' ye.”

Although he never sat the official SFA exam, Alex was an expert on poor referees, and even worse linesmen. He had a seeming pathological hatred of the flag-wavers. One afternoon, at Meadow Park, after one hapless linesman had repeatedly caught the Glen attack offside, Alex louped the fence and had a serious word with the official.

The linesman immediately waved his flag furiously to attract the referee's attention, before pointing-out Alex to the man in the middle. The referee immediately went an spoke to the senior policeman present, a Sergeant almost as big as Alex. The big polis then approached Alex and the conversation went: “Now Sir, the match officials have made a complaint about you intimidating the linesman. I have to warn you, if you approach the official again, I will be forced to remove you from the ground. However, if you want to sort-out that referee, who I think is doing more to spoil this game, it's got nothing to do with me.”

One time, I said to Alex, who was then Chairman of the Community Council: “Look Alex, all this roaring you do at Glen's games, it's not a good look for the Chairman of the Community Council, could you not dial it back a bit?”

The reply was typical Alex: “No way, I'm there shouting for a lot of guys who are no longer here to support the Glen.”

His job, as a painter, often took him to building sites in Glasgow and its surroundings, where the Weegies would repeatedly ask him: “Aye, but whit team do you really support?” These mainly Old Firm fans could not get their head round somebody who did not share their obsession with the two Glasgow giants. But, that was Alex, if you'd cut him in half, he'd be the Glen's red and white colours.

As I wrote above, Alex was born and raised in Connel Park, before moving down to the village proper. But, in later life he came back to Connel Park, where he was a terrific neighbour, a proud father and a doting grand-father and great-grand-father.

We will all miss him, but I think particularly of his immediate family. This has been a bad time for the village, which has been hard hit by Covid, but, losing Alex will be a particular blow to the Glen, as they start the new season.

But, Alex went out a winner. He would have been over-joyed that they mowed the Meadow, at Meadow Park, just the day before he passed.

Rest In Peace Big Man – we will all miss you.

Now We Know - Football Isn't Coming Home

PHEW! THAT WAS CLOSE. I deliberately laid-off commenting on the European Championships until it was all over – I had a feeling England, playing all but one game at home, would do well. So I thought, I would wait until all the media hype about football coming home and three lions on the shirt had subsided before posting.

So, what did we learn? In truth, not a lot. We already knew, Scotland was a work in progress, still with a long way to go. We learned that Wales's golden crop of players has probably peaked, that England can always, playing at Wembley, be contenders. But, most-importantly, if you look beyond the final match hype, we learned, British players are not as technically proficient as the best from the continent.

England, after that blitz opening, defended deep against the Italians, who proceeded to pass them off the park. Yes, it took a long time for the dam to burst, but, burst it did. I watch a lot of Rugby Union and the way it is played, the teams who can string together 10, 15 or 20-plus phases of possession always win.

Sunday night's final was like that. Italy repeatedly strung together multi-passing phases of play, where England could not do this. They didn't always get into the England “red zone,” but, all that chasing around as the Italians manipulated the ball back and forth across the field, it finally told on the poor English.

The English media keeps trying to tell us, Harry Kane is a “World-Class” striker. As an old “hot metal” journalist, I wish Editors would tell their sports subs to stop using “world-class” as an adjective. To me, the expression means, if you were picking a team to represent the world in a winner-takes-all inter-galactic football match against, let's say the Klingons, who would your starting XI be?

Well, no way would Kane get into my team ahead of the likes of Mbappe, Grisman, Cristiano Ronaldo, Robert Lewandowski etc. Here was an England captain, in his country's most-important game for 55 years, reduced to near-anonymous fringe status – that's not world-class.

The yardstick against which every England team is measured is the victorious 1966 World Cup team. That team had:

• Gordon Banks – the best goalkeeper in the world

• Ray Wilson – the best full-back in the world

• Bobby Moore – the best central defender in the world

• Bobby Charlton – the best goal-scoring midfielder in the world

• Jimmy Greaves – the best penalty box scorer in the world (who didn't play in the final)

That's five world-class players, five more than Gareth Southgate currently has at his disposal. They also had, in Alan Ball and Martin Peters, two wide men capable of running all day and stretching any defence – something else Southgate lacked.

The five named above were the best players in their position in the old First Division, where the dominant nationalities in playing terms were Scotsmen and Englishmen. Today's Premier Division, in comparison is a multi-national league, where there isn't one English player who could be said to be the best in his position in the league.

The English-based top clubs, few of which are now English-owned, also insist on a ridiculously long season with the result, come the end of season international tournaments, most of the English players, who have to compensate for their technical failings by the sweat of their brows, are running on fumes.

And, up here in Scotland, the situation is even worse.

No, what I took from Euro2020 is:

• Until we have major surgery on British football

• Fewer “top” teams playing each other

• In smaller ring-fenced league divisions

• With a return to a three foreigners rule

• And with more technically-proficient home-grown players

Then football is not coming home any time soon.