MANY YEARS AGO a golfing friend of my father's – a veteran member of Kilmarnock Barassie – observed that normal golfers, “weekend hackers like me” as he described himself, were wasting their time seeking inspiration from tournament professionals. “These guys inhabit a different galaxy – they're generally taking an eight iron where we club golfers are looking at a four or five,” he opined. His advice was, if you seek inspiration from better golfers, go and watch the women professionals, the game they play is more like that we male club golfers play.
Never having been much into wasting a good walk, I cannot give a firm opinion on his thesis, but, fellow club golfers in his audience were not inclined to argue against his point. Mind you, I do feel some of the top women golfers today are now also inhabiting a realm far-removed from your average monthly medal.
But, to the gist of today's sermon. Other than to have a titter at watching that ongoing con trick, being pulled by the High Heid Yins at our two great club football institutions – pretending their bargain basement recruits give them a chance of European football after Christmas – I don't generally bother with the modern-day European Cup.
Once upon a time this competition meant something, it really was the best of the best competing for pan-continental hegemony. You had to be champion of your country to even get in, nowadays, it's almost a private boys club for oligarths.
But, the teams which reach the sharp end, generally have recruited some of the best contemporary players. For me, the trouble is, today's top pros are so technically proficient, they've made the game boring. You long for the sight of your classic Scottish defender, unable to trap a falling bag of cement, but capable of sending a six foot Brazilian into orbit.
However, as I was reminded when watching Real Madrid v Borussia Dortmund on Saturday night, some olf footbaling truisms still carry weight.
One of the things I learned in my travels around the press boxes of Scotland is: “If you don't score when you are on top – you don't win the match.” This example of footbal gospel came back to bite Borussia on the bum in no uncertain terms. Over the first hour, a combination of Belgian heroics from Thibaut Courtois, the woodwork, terrific defending and poor shooting prevented the German side from establishing a defendable lead.
When the opposition has the quality players available to Real, you cannot be so profligate in front of goal, and, as I suspected might happen when the game reached half-time still all-square, Real's attacking quality told and they came through to claim title number 15.
The format of the competition will change again for the new season, but, I will be very-surprised if this Real Madrid team, even without the retiring Toni Kroos, and possibly too the wonderful Luka Modric – granted only a cameo with the game won – back next season, when they will be bolstered by the arrival of Kylian Mbappé.
I mentioned Courtois in the last paragraph. Belgium must be well-off for goalkeepers, since, after his injury-ravaged season, he hasn't made their squad for the Euros. And, on the same tack, Germany, who don't forget we play in the opening game, must be well-off for defenders, if they can leave Borussia's Mats Hummels out of their squad. He and Nico Schlotterbeck – who we will have to get round in the Euros - were again immense in central defence, before the seemingly inevitable Real win.
I am still struggling to make sense of the new format for the new season; which will see 36 clubs qualify for the league phase. It makes no sense to me and is further evidence of how football at this level is now a rich boys' club.
I would have more respect for the guys ruining our game if they would go the whole hog and simply start a Europe-wide football version of the NBA or NFL and let the rest of us get on with enjoying the domestic game.
Just think how much more fun Scottish fitba would be if we didn't have the Bigot Brothers and their toxic followers to worry about.
A YEAR OR TWO back I voluntarily opted-out of covering the Junior Cup Final, a match I had enjoyed covering for many years. However, old habits die hard and I still find myself drawn, like a moth to a flame, to each year's broadcast.
So, 4pm on Sunday found me switching-on BBC ALBA for this year's edition. I was a wee bit conflicted this year. Number Two daughter stays a good clearance away from Darvel's ground, and, like every other Ayrshireman, I want to see that magnificent trophy remaining in God's County. On the other hand I enjoyed many a good afternoon covering Arthurlie during my near decade working for the Paisley Daily Express.
Mind you, it is a wee bit strange to see this game without Auchinleck Talbot being involved, however, several of the Darvel team have enjoyed previous Scottish Cup success with Talbot and, they finished seventh in the West of Scotland League, Premier Division, while Arthurlie were relegated.
Add Darevel's semi-final victory over Talbot into the mix and they were definitely favourites. However, in what was a game reminiscent (to a degree) of Saturday's European Cup Final, the underdogs made the better start and all the running from the off.
'Lie striker Scott Anson is hardly your average lean, mean, scoring machine – I've seen fourth XV prop forwards with a better physique, but he knows the way to goal, heading 'Lie in front in the second half, without even having to jump for the ball.
But Darvel boss David Winters, in his last game in the hot seat, tweaked his formation and Graham Wilson did what he does in Junior Cup finals, scoring the two goals which took the cup to Darvel for the first time in the club's history.
It wasn't a great game, but, in the end quality told – it will be a hot few days in the Irvine Valley this week.
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