Good Luck In Changing Scottish Football

WAY BACK, in the middle years of the last century, when the Glasgow printed and published SCOTTISH Daily Express was the dominant media organ in the land, they did a story about an elder, attending his first General Assembly of the Church of Scotland – back then the closest thing Scotland had to a national parliament.

“What do I do?” the nervous newcomer asked his minister as they took their seats in the Assembly Hall. The old minister pointed out another cleric, sitting across the room: The Right Reverend Dr. George MacLeod, Baron MacLeod of Fuinary.

“Whatever he does – you do,” was the advice.

What has that wee tale have to do with Scottish fitba? You may well ask. However, I would wager, similar advice will be offered to newcomers to fitba's corridors of power. But, while all the fathers and bretheren in the ministry and eldership attending the Assembly believed Rev. George was 'God's Minister,' which way their fitba cousins jump at SFA gatherings may well depend on whether the recipient of the advice believes in a Catholic or a Protestant God of Football, and will follow one or other half of the Bigot Brothers.

The problem then is, the Glasgow giants have probably already had their own private meeting, decided what course of action would best suit their needs and have got the wagons circled in common cause.

In football, as in life – money shouts, and Billy and Tim have more followers and money than the other clubs combined, therefore, their will will be done.

That said, I wish Aberdeen, Dundee, Dundee United, Heart of Midlothian and Hibernian well in their efforts to drag Scottish Fitba into the 21st century. However, I will not be holding my breath for change.

You see, it's not merely the Big Two who have entrenched positions to defend. Some of the bottom feeders among the 42 “senior” clubs in Scotland are fearing for their lives.

Since the changes which saw a Scottish pyramid formed and regular play-offs between the team finishing last in the Scottish Professional Football League and the better club of the Highland and Lowland League champions, Berwick Rangers, Brechin City and East Stirlingshire have all lost their 'Senior' status.

It might still be early days in the story of season 2021-2022, but, officials with long-established clubs Albion Rovers, Cowdenbeath, Stenhousemuir and Stranraer, currently occupying positions 39 to 42 in the pecking order, will already be privately asking themselves: “What if we finish bottom and lose the play-off?”

Regular readers will not be surprised to learn, in my view, we could do with losing a few more of our “Senior” clubs. Forty-two “Senior” teams, in a nation of five and a half million people – to my mind that number could be more than halved.

A study of who has won what in Scottish football makes interesting reading. OK, we know, the Old Firm have dominated the trophy-winning for generations, but, if we look merely at this century, 22 seasons-worth of history, we find:

• 18 of the current 42 clubs have never appeared in the top flight

• In addition, only 18 clubs have appeared in the top division this century

• Only Celtic and Rangers have won the top division of the league this century

• Only 10 of the other 40 clubs has even won one of the two major cups this century

• These cup wins amount to 27% of the total

• Overall, the Old Firm pair have won 82% of the trophies this century.

Therefore, for as long as we include “failing” unsuccessful clubs, who are not challenging for the major honours, the tail is wagging the dog.

An additional drawback for anyone attempting to sell the Scottish Professional Football League as a league worth investing in as a sponsor is – in that field, money talks, and the big money is all held outside Scotland. Outside Scotland, the only football teams that most people have heard of are – Celtic and Rangers.

Getting sponsors for an annual two-horse race is not an easy sell.

Those pushing for change, modernisation, call it what you will, have apparently been influenced by the North American professional sports models, with which some of their club directors are familiar.

I just wonder, have they noticed, in professional sports in North America, very few of the big franchises have more than one in a major city. Look at the facts:

• Major League Baseball – 30 clubs, two franchises in the same city: Chicago – Cubs and White Sox; Los Angeles – Dodgers and Angels; New York – Yankees and Mets; San Francisco – Giants and Oakland Athletics. Twenty-two other single city franchises.

• National Basketball Association – 30 clubs, two franchises in the same city: Los Angeles – Lakers and Clippers; New York – Knicks and Brooklyn Nets. Twenty-six other single city franchises.

• National Football League – 32 clubs, two franchises in the same city: Los Angeles – Chargers and Rams; New York – Giants and Jets. Twenty-eight other single city franchises.

• National Hockey League – 32 clubs, two franchises in the same city: Los Angeles – Kings and Anaheim Ducks; New York – Islanders and Rangers. Twenty-eight other single city franchises.

In North America, it is only the really big cities where you have two franchises – surely it would make sense to amalgamate the two Dundee clubs and the two Edinburgh clubs, to form bigger, single-city clubs, better able perhaps to challenge the Glasgow giants. I will leave that one here, while I don my steel helmet and flak jacket.

Also, in North America, and I think those North American-raised investors in our clubs will have noticed this – they play their sports in Conferences, where relegation is not an issue. Once your club is in a league, they cannot be kicked out, even if they repeatedly finish bottom. It's up to them to improve their playing staff and get up the pecking order.

Mind you, one thing North American sport does not have is a richer neighbour next door, able to cherry-pick their best players away. But, that's another story.

What every North American sport does have, however, is a single major league – the destination of choice of every player, but, also minor leagues which feed the talent up to their big league, and where the emphasis is on player development.

Maybe that's a game plan we should be looking at here. A ring-fenced 16 to 20 team league, playing in two conferences of similar standard, with cross-over games leading to a big Grand Final – now just maybe, here in Scotland, that could be the best small league in the world.

Socrates Pays Tribute To One Of The Immortals

Jimmy Greaves: 20 February,  1940 - 21 September, 2021

 

THE NEWS of Jimmy Greaves' passing cast something of a damper on Sunday. At a time when average players, capable of passing accurately to a team mate five yards away, are worth ludicrous sums of money on an over-inflated transfer market, it does the game good to be reminded of genuine class on the park.

The fact the BBC saw fit to lead the Sunday evening national news with the news of Jimmy's passing demonstrates the affection with which he was held in the country, and, in this case I mean the United Kingdom, not just England – although he was very-much an English sporting hero.

Greavsie was also someone who was warmly received when he ventured north, mainly with Tottenham Hotspur – Scottish football fans have always recognised and acknowledged class. He only actually played once at Hampden for the full England team. He was in the side destroyed 2-0 in 1962.

Tottenham apparently had first dibs on young talent in Manor Park, Essex, the part of Greater London where Jimmy grew-up, but, they missed him and he signed instead for Chelsea, where he was one of “Ted Drake's Ducklings,” a squad of talented youngsters put together by the manager to succeed the ageing squad who had delivered the first league title to Stamford Bridge in 1955.

The “Ducklings” were soon swimming in the deep waters of the first team – Peter Bonetti, Ron Harris, Terry Venables, Peter Brabrook, Barry Bridges and Bobby Tambling all went on to have significant careers, however, from the moment he announced himself with a debut goal, against Spurs, in August, 1957, it was obvious – here was a natural goal scorer.

He left Chelsea at the end of the 1960-61 season, having scored 132 goals in 169 appearances, signing-off with all four goals in a 4-3 win over Nottingham Forest. That took his tally for the season to 41 goals in 40 games.

His next stop was AC Milan, but, even before he landed in Italy, Greaves had realised he had made a mistake leaving London. AC paid £80,000 for his signature, he got a signing-on fee of £15,000 and was to be paid £140 per week – massive money for those times.

He again scored on his debut, but he was miserable throughout his time in Italy, where he didn't get on with the coach and objected to the control his club insisted on having over his life. But, he did score 9 goals in 14 games, an excellent return in those days of stifling Italian defences.

Bill Nicholson saw-off Chelsea's attempts to buy him back, Spurs finally had their man, at a cost of £99,999. The canny Nicholson knocked £1 off the price, so Greaves would not be burdened with the tag of being football's first £100,000 player.

His obligatory debut goal was part of a hat-trick in a 5-2 win over Blackpool, of which his flying scissors kick for one of the goals is a highly-celebrated strike. He had joined the team which had secured English football's first league and cup double the previous season, but, the league title was to elude him. He did help Spurs win the FA Cup, then become the first British team to win a European Trophy, when they won the Cup-Winners Cup, thrashing Rangers en route.

He remained with Spurs throughout the 1970s, forming a particularly-deadly scoring partnership with Alan Gilzean on his way to notching a club record 268 goals.

His next stop in a tour of London clubs was West Ham United, whom he joined as the make-weight in the deal which took Martin Peters in the opposite direction. The Hammers, however, were a club in decline> Peters had, gone, Bobby Moore and Geoff Hurst were in decline and their replacements were not of the same calibre.

Greaves was unhappy, drinking too much, unfit and on the downward slope to alcoholism. He only scored 13 goals in 40games for West Ham – way below his normal return. He was only 31 when his top-flight career ended in May, 1971. However, in all, between his three London clubs and AC| Milan, he scored 366 goals in the top flight, a record which stood until surpassed by Cristiano Ronaldo in 2017.

He tried to continue playing in non-league football, but, he was in the throes of alcoholism, a battle he finally won in 1979. He remained sober for the rest of his life.

Internationally, he scored 13 goals in 12 appearances for the England Under-23 side before making his England debut, in Peru, during a close season tour in 1959. He, needless to say, scored on his debut and would go on to eclipse the then England goal-scoring record and go on to score 44 times in 57 internationals. This tally included six hat-tricks, one against Scotland in the 9-3 thrashing in 1961 – when he had a fourth goal chalked off for offside.

His England career lasted until May, 1967, however, after injury saw him replaced by Geoff Hurst for the knock-out stages of the 1966 tournament, and he was, although fit, not restored to the team for the final, Jimmy somewhat fell out of love with playing for England, finally asking Alf Ramsey not to pick him as: “a bit-part player.”

What a goalscorer:

• 44 in 57 games for England – 0.77 goals per game

• 13 in 12 games for England Under-23s – 1.08 gpg

• 2 in 2 games for the London XI – 1 gpg

• 132 in 169 games for Chelsea – 0.78 gpg

• 9 in 14 games for AC Milan - 0.64 gpg

• 268 in 381 games for Tottenham – 0.70 gpg

• 13 in 40 games for West Ham United – 0.325 gpg

Including his later spell in non-league football, he played a total of 777 games, scoring 526 goals, an average of 0.68 goals per game. The benchmark for a top-class finisher is supposedly 0.5 goals per game. Given, in the latter stages of his career, he played more in midfield, that figure shows what a great finisher Greaves was. His top-flight figures are remarkable: 479 goals in 673 games, an average of 0.71 goals per game.

He was one of the ultimate penalty-box predators in his later years, but, at the start of his career he scored some remarkable goals by using his blistering pace to run at defences from distance.

After football he became one of the first footballers to have a media career. He drove a Ford Escort in the World Cup Rally of 1970, finishing sixth; then appeared on the punditry panel. He wrote columns for the Sun and the Sunday People and for football magazines, as well as writing several football books, including a well-received autobiography, often in conjunction with his life-long friend Normal Gillier..

His best-known media career was as one half of “Saint and Greavsie,” with former Scotland cap Ian St John. Their long-running partnership was must-watch pre-match viewing on a Saturday.

He married Irene Barden in 1958. They had five children, losing their eldest, Jimmy Junior, as a toddler. Irene sued for divorce at the height of Jimmy's alcoholism, but, the separation was never formalised and, after three months, they reunited and remained together untilo his death.

Along with the other squad members who had not played in the 1966 World Cup Final, Jimmy received a winner's medal in 2009. He was made MBE in the 2021 New Year's Honours for his services to football. By then, however, following ill-health and a major stroke in May, 2015, he was reduced to relying on a wheel chair to get about.

Jimmy Greaves was a character, he had a ready wit and pithy sense of humour. After football, Alan Gilzean worked for a haulage company, with whom he re-located to Weston-Super-Mare. There were lurid tales of him having hit hard times and when he was eventually persuaded to return to White Hart Lane for a Spurs game, he was greeted with: “Where the Hell have you been hiding?” by Greaves. “Keeping out of your way,” was Gillie's response.

He was one of the few members of the 1966 England team that most Scots would gladly have taken as one of our own. Imagine a front two of Greaves and Denis Law? Indeed, one of the legends around Scotland's 1967 Wembley win is that: “They strengthened their World Cup-winning team to play us.” Greaves for Roger Hunt was the only change to the 1966 immortals for the Scotland game.

Jimmy Graves – some player. Rest in Peace Wee Man.

Another Disaster For Scotland - Or Was It?

ONCE AGAIN, in the wake of another (to quote dear old David Francey) “Disaster for Scotland” I find myself wondering about the direction of travel of our national team. Was defeat in Copenhagen, after we finally reached a major championship final tournament, the one step back which followed two steps forward; or are we shuffling around in ever-decreasing circles until we vanish up oor ain jacksie?

I suppose it's been thus for Scotland – at least for the duration of my lifetime, and I am a proud post-war “Baby Boomer.” Through all that time – from the first Scotland team in my lifetime: Willie Miller; George Young, Jock Shaw; Archie MacAuley, Willie Woodburn, Alex Forbes; Gordon Smith, Andy McLaren, Jimmy Delaney, Billy Steel, Tommy Pearson, to Wednesday night's team: Craig Gordon; Scott McKenna, Grant Hanley, Liam Cooper; Andy Robertson, Kenny McLean, Billy Gilmour, Callum McGregor, Kieran Tierney; Che Adams, Ryan Fraser, I get the impression – we have never been as good as we think we are, but, that reality check never hits home.

Another constant about the national team has been, no nation has greater triumphs, of suffers bigger disasters than Scotland – win or lose. Equilibrium and a sense of perspective has never sat easily on the shoulders of your average Tartan Army foot soldier; and even less so on the shoulders of the so-called Intelligence Corps – the “fans with lap tops.”

Let's look at our record against Denmark, our conquerors on Wednesday night. We have met the Danes 17 times, since our first encounter, in 1951. We have won 10 of these 17 games, losing the other 7. BUT, look at the timeline and it makes far-less satisfying reading.

The record is: win – win – win – win – loss – win – win – win – win – loss – loss – loss – loss – loss – win – win – loss.

We've been playing against the Danes for 70 years, in the first 35, we won eight of the ten meetings between the nations. In the last 35 years we have won just two of seven encounters.

That mid-way point in Danish/Scottish football relations was 1986 – the year it all changed in Scotland, with the arrival of Graeme Souness and a loss of belief in home-grown talent.

There's not a lot of difference between Denmark and Scotland. Their population is 5.8 million, ours is 5.4 million. But, when you look at football in the two countries, it's a different story. The Danes have 361,078 registered players, to Scotland's 152,483. They have 1628 registered clubs, to Scotland's 3719 clubs, and they have 6135 registered coaches, to our 41,790.

In UEFA's current country coefficients table, Scotland is ranked 8th, Denmark 22^nd; in the FIFA rankings Denmark are 11^th, Scotland 49^th.

There are a mere seven Scottish clubs ranked in UEFA's clubs' coefficient table: Rangers are ranked 43^rd, Celtic 50^th, Aberdeen 156^th, with Hibernian, St Johnstone, Motherwell and Kilmarnock respectively filling places 160 to 163.

There are ten Danish clubs among the 433 European clubs listed. FC Copenhagen are ranked 49^th, Midtjylland are ranked 103^rd, Brøndby come in in 193^rd place, with AGF Aarhus, Ronders, SønderjysKE, Esjerbg, Nordsjaelland and Lyngby filling places 273 to 278 respectively.

Lets dig through these figures. Each Danish club has an average of 222 players. Each club has an average of 4 coaches – one coach for every 55 players.

Each Scottish club has an average of 41 players, and an average of 11 coaches. This means, in Scotland, we've got one coach for every 4 players, but, by common consent, the Danish players are more technically-gifted than the Scots.

Clearly we are doing something wrong. Are we over-coached, or do we have too-many bad coaches here?

The teams on Wednesday night were drawn from similar sources. The Danes had four players from the English Premiership, four from Italy's Serie A, two from Germany's Bundesliga and one from Spain's La Ligua. Our team had eight from the English Premiership, two from the Scottish Premiership and Scott McKenna from the English Championship.

So, if we take every factor into consideration, given they had home advantage, given, last time out, Denmark reached the semi-final of the European Championships, we finished bottom of our group in the final tournament – was losing 0-2 to the Danes the disaster our sharpest media brains are making out?

As I have said, nobody has bigger triumphs, or worse disasters. This, of course, suits the suits who run Scottish football down to the ground – it puts the blame onto the Head Coach, or the Players, everywhere but where it belongs – to the stumblebums who have mismanaged our national game for generations.

Maybe Stephen Clarke picked the wrong team. Perhaps he did get the tactics wrong. But, what I do know is, had everyone been fit – he would have fielded a different team, we had more key men missing than the Danes, and that probably made a difference. But, while losing to a better side was disappointing – it wasn't the absolute disaster our fans with lap tops are making out.

A wee bit of level-headedness would maybe help us – oh! I forgot, this is Scotland we are talking about. Level-headedness doesn't come into it.

No matter what we do, we will still – as far as I can see – have the same muddle-headed thinking at strategic level, we will still have too-many so-called “senior” clubs, whose only ambition is to continue to be a “senior” club. We will still have any player with a modicum of ability desperate to move south for bigger money and we will still put our club game first ahead of the international side.

We will still be ruled over by two clubs, desperate to leave Scottish football for the richer game south of the Tweed and Solway; and they and the other leading sides will still recruit second-rate foreigners ahead of young Scottish talent.

The only place Scottish fitba is going is doon the stank, slowly.