Peace In Our Time - Aye Right

RALPH Topping - who him? - emerged from Hampden yesterday and, if not quite waving a piece of paper in the air, promised peace in our time. It seems the 12 SPL clubs had reached agreement on a way forward for Scottish football.

Aye Right.

For all the talk of a single governing body, inter-division play-offs and so on, the truth remains, most of the football will still be shite, we will still have too-many clubs and, once (if ever! given the degree of in-fighting going on there, not to mention one or two still untamed gorillas in the Blue room) peace breaks out, self-interest is back in and Old Firm hegemony is restored at the top of our game, the same two teams as always will still run things and we will be no better off.

However, the image of peace in our time, plus the date, got me thinking about another Conservative leader waving a piece of paper about and shouting: "Peace in our time" - Neville Chamberlain, on his return from Munich in 1938, 75-years ago, after meeting a testicularly-challenged  Austrian-born house-painter named Adolf Hitler.

What's this got to do with fitba? you ask.

Well, there has always been a particularly robust football relationship between Scotland and Austria. The two countries have much in common, both relatively small and living cheek-by-jowl with football elephants, us with those lovely white-shirted Saxon chaps, them with an equally lovely and oft-unloved white-shirted bunch - the Germans. Just for extra spice, by the way, the Austrians also have a fairly robust relationship with the Hungarians.

Like us, the Austrians used to have a feared reputation across Europe for playing above their station and for a period in the 1930s their Wunderteam was the best team in the world - but, like the Hungarians, they never conclusively proved this by beating the rest at the World Cup, although they did hammer a below-strength Scotland team 5-0 in 1931.

Another link between the two countries is the influence of master coach Jimmy Hogan, the Lancastrian, scandalously under-appreciated in the UK who did, during a short spell at Celtic in the 1950s seriously-influence tghe thinking of a certain Jock Stein.

After that 1931 Vienna hammering, the Austrians and the Scots literally fought-out a series of tousy games over the next few years. Torry Gillick was sent-off, but refused to leave the field in the 1937 Vienna kicking match; Willie Woodburn laid-out an Austrian at Hampden in 1950 as the Austrians became the first continental side to win in the British Isles; in the return bout in Vienna in May 1951, Billy Steel got sent off as Scotland lost 4-0.

Tommy Docherty will still tell you the Scots were, with the help of some laissez faire refereeing and a one-eyed Swiss linesman, kicked off the park in the 1954 World Cup clash, won 1-0 by the Austrians, then, a year later, in Vienna, it really kicked-off.

Gordon Smith, standing-in as Scotland captain for the injured George Young, gave his best display in a Scotland shirt, ripping the Austrian left flank to bits. So, they decided to kick him off the park to the extent that "the Gay Gordon" punched Rockl, the Austrian left-half. The Austrian was ordered-off, some of the crowd invaded the park to get at Smith and Lawrie Reilly, going to his Famous Five colleague's assistance, laid-out one of the invaders.

Docherty then laid-out Erich Probst the Austrian inside left and a couple of platoons of the 51st Highland Division, who were stationed in Vienna in those post-WWII years formed a protective cordon around the Scots as they left the field 4-1 winners.

Things were "tasty" when the Austrians came to Glasgow in 1956, but there were no serious casualties and, just when everyone thought peace had finally broken-out and the admittedly very good Ocwirk-Hannappi inspired Austrian team of the 1950s - they finished third in the 1954 World Cup - Austria returned to Glasgow, 50-years ago today, on 8 May, 1963.

They found waiting for them a Scotland team with a guid conceit o' themselves. They had surged unbeaten through the 1962-63 Home Internationals, beating England 2-0 at Wembley in a match in which they had played 85 of the 90 minutes with ten men after skipper Eric Caldow broke his leg.

Jim Baxter and Denis Law were absolutely "World Class" and would prove this by being picked for the FIFA XI which played England in the FA Centenary Match at Wembley later that year. Right back Alex Hamilton from Dundee, Dave Mackay, Willie Henderson and Davie Wilson were only slightly behind that ranking; indeed, if Mackay wasn't officially "World Class" then the guys picking that level of player knew nothing.

Another outstanding Scot, John White of Tottenham was injured, so into the side in his place, for his first cap, came Davie Gibson, the midfield brains behind the great "Ice Kings" Leicester City team which had faltered in the home straight in chasing a rare league and cup double in England.

There were two more newcomers to the Scotland team; left-back Davie Holt  of Hearts, replacing Caldow, was an Olympian, he had played for Great Britain in the 1960 Rome Olympics, while centre forward Jimmy Millar had been scoring goals for fun as one half of the deadly Rangers' Brand and Millar strike force. The other two players weren't bad either, Bill Brown was in goal on his way to setting a Scottish goalkeeper's appearance record of 28 caps, which stood until Alan Rough overtook him while Ian Ure had won his selection battle with Billy McNeill to get the number five jersey in a team which read: Brown (Tottenham Hotspur), Hamilton (Dundee) and Holt (Heart of Midlothian), Mackay (Tottenham Hotspur), Ure (Dundee) and Baxter (Rangers), Henderson (Rangers), Gibson (Leicester City), Millar (Rangers), Law (Manchester United) and Wilson (Rangers).

They ripped into the Austrians from the start. Davie Wilson struck twice in the opening 26 minutes and, with the 95,000 Hampden crowd loving it, the Austrians lost it.

Horst Nemec their centre forward was sent off for spitting in referee Jim Finney's face and had to be virtually hauled off the park by the Glesca polis.

Law made it 3-0 after 33 minutes and the Austrians decided, if they were going to be beaten, they would take at least one body home with them. Sadly for them, the men they mostly decided to kick were Mackay and Law!! The mayhem continued into the second half until Law made it 4-0 after 71 minutes.

A minute later Anton Linhart pulled a goal back, but, far from pacifying the visitors, this only served to wind them up even more. Erich Hof should have gone for an assault on wee Willie Henderson, which belied his status as "The Professor of Football", then Linhart had a kick at Denis Law, who simply did what Law did in such circumstances - he kicked the Austrian back, harder.

That was the final straw for Mr Finney, the genial referee from Hereford - he walked off the park, waving his arms to indicate the match was over after 79 minutes.

Enter the polis to separate the players, who were exchanging blows rather than shirts. The Scots and the Austrians didn't meet again on the park until they were drawn together in the 1970 World Cup qualifying groups, but apart from the obligatory yellow card for John Greig, this one passed off peacefully.

It seemed, like Muhammad Ali and Joe Frasier, the combatants had mellowed and learned to, if not love each other, get along together - then Celtic were paired with Rapid Vienna.....

Scotland v Austria - a rammy waiting to happen; and it did, 50-years ago today.

Come On SFA - Give The Troops A Pub To Wait In

I HAVE long held that the likes of Marks & Spencer, Tesco, Asda, Morrison's and Sainsbury's would make even more billions, were they to introduce Wotherspoon's-style pubs at their larger stores. Then, we gentlemen would have somewhere to wait in peace and comfort while our womenfolk indulged their need to shop.

A similar annexe to Hampden, where the gentlemen of the fourth estate could wait while the "blazers" were upstairs playing funny buggers with whatever dismal future Scottish football has, would similarly, I am sure, net much-needed cash for those same blazers to squander.

Because, the Lap Top Loyal, the Celtic Congregation and the wee men who cover the wee teams are again hanging around on that massive front staircase, waiting for word on the next lame-brained re-organisation plan which the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse - Lawwell, Regan, Doncaster and Longmuir have come up with.

Don't worry, it will not be the radical, revolutionary even scheme which is needed to halt and reverse the years of decline and fall; rather it will be a cobbled-together compromise which hopefully offers enough self-interest to gain approval.

If we thought last year's close-season drama, all that stuff about sporting integrity, all those whispered, behind the back deals, was sickening - I fear we may be due for chapter two.

Is there nobody in Scotland who can knock heads together and put us on the right road. Come-on Eck, Nicola - or are you going to pass on an opportunity which, if grasped properly and carried through just might sway the Independence referendum.

I LIKED the suggestion in this morning's Herald Diary, that, after his arrest during his victory celebrations following the PFA Scotland Awards Dinner, Scouser Michael Higden of Motherwell be immediately granted Scottish citizenship and fast-tracked into our international side - since he is showing the necessary qualifying conduct.

DAFT though we may sometimes be, both individually and collectively; I will never shrink from the belief that, when compared with their Saxon counterparts, Scottish football writers are a sensible bunch.

Further evidence of this was offered this morning on the website of one of the supposedly sensible London broadsheets - the papers of record and authority.

One of the football writers was speculating on who would be Jose Mourinho's assistant at Chelsea.

Right now, Chelsea have a manager, The Chosen One has a job as manager of Real Madrid and for all his nudge, nudge, come and get me supposed approaches to Roman Abramovich, that position hasn't changed.

When you look at that level of journalism, it is good to know I am semi-retired. The craft is going down the stank ever faster.

Bring In Tom Daley - He Knows A Dive When He Sees One

IT IS one of the eternal truths of football that, of the three separate teams on any football park at any one time, the team which makes the least number of mistakes - the refereeing team - gets the most criticism.

Just think about that for a moment; after any game, it is certain that the mistakes made by the players: failure to trap the proverbial bag of cement, mis-cued shots, misplaced passes, headers missed, will always greatly out-number the wrong decisions made by the referee and his assistants.

Take yesterday's SPL game between Dundee and Aberdeen at Dens, for instance. Let me say immediately, I have seen a lot of bad decisions made in my many years of watching and reporting on Scottish football. But quite how referee Alan Muir and his assistant referee on that line could EVER have decided that Lewis Toshney had brought down Peter Pawlett, God only knows.

Pawlett's "dive" might have been applauded for its technical perfection by the likes of Greg Luganis or Tom Daley, it ought to be roundly condemned by anyone involved in football.

Some might criticise Toshney for allowing himself to be conned, but the criticism should fall on Mr Muir and his team for a similar failing. 

Just suppose Dundee bounce back to win all their remaining games and, when the final whistle is blown on season 2012-13, they are relegated by a single point - the two points which that single bad decision cost them will grate long in the psyche of all on the Dark Blue side of Dundee.

And, there is no come-back. The referee's decision is final, end of.

Now, here's a thought. FIFA will shortly allow TV replays to settle "was it a goal disputes" when there is doubt as to whether or not the ball crossed the line. This is the thin end of the wedge. Once the genie of TV replays is out of the bottle, we will soon, as in rugby and cricket have Television Match Officials involved.

We will then, just as surely, in time have tennis and cricket-style challenges to officials' decisions, rugby-style citing officers; retrospective changes to results and so on.

Just this week, Lynsey Sharp became European 800 metres Champion, after her Russian conqueror was unmasked as a drugs cheat, almost a year after the event. We have seen other athletics champions shamed as drugs cheats and medals re-distributed. This, of course, has not been done fairly - quite how my all-time favourite sportswoman, big Shazza Davies, has failed to have that magnificent bosum of hers covered in gold medals, which she was cheated out of by the institutionalised, serial doping policy of the old Communist East German state is a continuing stain on the people who run swimming.

But, what a can of worms this will open if it ever extends to football!!!!

I NOTE that Celtic were a wee bit miffed at the state of Ross county's Victoria Park at the weekend. The poor surface was used as just one of a string of excuses for yet another below-par display from the Champions.

Given the progress which has been made in recent years in synthetic or hybrid grass-synthetic pitches, I am continually amazed that the SPL management has not insisted on 3G or 4G pitches being standard. But hey, this is Scotland, one of the coldest, dampest, wettest places on earth, so, of course, we have to play on grass - even though better, more-modern surfaces, on which a real passing game could be fostered, are available.

But, perhaps not - a leap from the 19th to the 21st century, in one go, would be too-much for the Hampden blazers to cope with.

YOU would think a long-serving media specialist such as wee James Traynor would have been able to persuade the rest of the management team at Rangers that, banning a media outlet is never a good move. But, no, Ra Peepul carried-on and banned the BBC on the most-spurious of grounds.

The answer for the BBC is surely one which one of my old editors pulled after I upset one of the major teams within our circulation area. He simply stopped mentioning them. Two days later, everything was smoothed over and we were all friends again.

The question here is - could Chick Young go two days without saying the R word?

FINALLY - I have no inside knowledge of who Michale Higden allegedly assaulted, or why; but might suggest that a Scouser might well take umbrage at the prices which they charge at The Corinthian. Did he nut a barman perchance?

Dummy Spitting and Toys Out Of The Pram - The Scottish Football Way

NOTHING has happened since I posted yesterday on the ten SFL "turkeys", voting for an early Christmas by attempting to bluster and push their way into a new SPL2.

Scottish football is still in a mess, we are still going backwards faster than the mythical Ferrari-engined Italian tank of WWII - but hey, to the nonentities in the boardrooms of New Douglas Park, East End Park, the Falkirk Stadium, whatever Almondvale is called this week, Cappielow and so-forth, that doesn't matter.

To them: "It's all about us - and we will continue to spit the dummy and chuck the toys out of the pram until we get our own way".

Let's be honest - the SFL doesn't amount to that grand old Humphrey Bogart stand-by, a hill of beans; that organisation was founded out of the self-interest of the so-called leading clubs of the 1880s, minus Queen's Park, who came in about 20-years later. The organisation has always been driven by self-interest, but over the years this has been the self-interest of ALL its member clubs.

When Celtic and Rangers convinced a gang of their followers to defect to the SPL in the late 1990s, the driving force was self-interest and that self-interest forced the SPL clubs to buy their way out.

This could happen again this time. But, I would caution the ten breakaway clubs to be wary. IF they do succeed in forming SPL2, the most-important figure in that name will be the 2 - as far as Celtic, Aberdeen, Hibs and Dundee United - the real power-brokers within the SPL are concerned: Hamilton Accies, Dunfermline, Dundee or St Mirren, Livingston, Falkirk, Morton, Cowdenbeath, Dumbarton, Raith Rovers and Queen of the South will be simply that - 2s; second-class citizens, the underclass.

Celtic will survive any domestic upset and, let's not kid ourselves, IF the English Premiership were to turn round tomorrow and say: "Dermott Desmond, Peter Lawwell, Neil Lennon, Scott Brown, Kris Commons and the rest - come on down", you wouldn't be able to see the Hoops for the cloud of green stoor they'd leave in their wake as they left.

The rest - they'd be too-busy crapping themselves about what to do next; how they would placate increasingly sceptical bank managers in the wake of financial melt-down, to hold out a hand to help their new second-class members.

Scottish football needs a total rebuild, not a couple of coats of paint to cover over the cracks and the real structural failures. This isn't simply a job concerning the top 12 SPL clubs or the next ten wannabe clubs, or even the remaining 20 SFL rump clubs.

Rebuilding Scottish football concerns the national team, the age group teams, the women's teams, the Highland, East of Scotland and South of Scotland non-league "senior" clubs, the 150-plus junior clubs, the thousands of amateur clubs and the thousands of schools and boys clubs.

Scottish football is failing - has been failing for years and, in the context of that institutionalised failure, the self-interest of ten failing second or third-rate clubs still doesn't amount to a hill of beans.

AND THEN, there is the gorilla in the room, as someone once said - no, not the celebrated Big Tax Case, the club which won that case on penalties (or more-properly non-penalties), the mighty Champions of SFL3 The Rangers FC.

They might be temporarily, through their own sins, doing penance among the lower orders, but, at the end of the day, the institution known as Rangers is still the biggest fish in the Scottish gold fish bowl.

As Ra Peepul demonstrated at Ibrox yesterday, bigotry is still big business in Scottish football and is likely to remain thus until Scotland's politicians find the cojones to tackle this problem.

IF Rangers are smart - I know, that calls for a huge leap in imagination; they could end-up the biggest winners in all this. Quite simply, a successful Rangers is the biggest draw in Scottish football. Sure, the Celtic fans are revelling in their rivals' current woes, and why not; the Celtic power-brokers are revelling in Rangers absence from the corridors of power as they twist Scottish football at the upper level to their will - BUT - deep down, in their heart of hearts, they don't half miss them.

Rangers still have such clout that change without them being involved is unthinkable. Or is it?

Had Charles Green still been involved at Ibrox, I could see him carrying-out his threat to remove Rangers to England; not straight into the Premiership, that's a non-starter. But, European Union  anti-competition rules, used effectively, COULD and SHOULD get a willing Rangers (or Celtic for that matter) into the English League. And let's not beat about the bush here, if Rangers were to push to go, who do you think would be right there beside them - I'll give you a clue: Glasgow-based side, wear green and white hoops and worship Lisbon Lions.

But, Green is gone, so, no England. However, Rangers would immediately be the rallying point for the remaining SFL clubs, and, with the right leadership we could end-up with two competing league organisations, just as in America before the AFC and NFC merged to form the NFL.

We do live in interesting times.

STILL on the subject of Rangers, that document, leaked to the BBC, has certainly put the cat among the pigeons. I haven't had sight of the entire thing, but, the bullet points I have seen discussed - about the need for better coaching, of more-sensible wages and of the need for a high-profile Director of Football all, to me, make perfect sense.

The rest of Scottish football, when they banished Rangers to the basement, gave the club a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to change and re-invent the club into one for the 21st century. Of course, the "traditionalists" and the fly-by-nights who invested didn't take that chance.

The left team matters in the care of a leg end who, lovely bloke though he is, isn't Rangers class as a manager or coach; whose talent identifying is poor and who doesn't seem to realise, you cannot properly buy your way out of the basement and back to the top.

The best way to build a lasting legacy  of a powerful club is to breed from within, with judicious buying, when necessary, to augment the home-grown talent.

Look at the best Rangers team I can recall, the Scot Symon squad of 1960 to 1964; that era is defined by these names: Ritchie; Shearer, Caldow, Greig, McKinnon, Baxter, Henderson, McMillan, Millar, Brand and Wilson. Eleven Scottish internationalists, of whom Billy Ritchie, Eric Caldow, John Greig, Ron McKinnon, Willie Henderson, Ralph Brand and Davie Wilson came through the ranks of home-grown Rangers. Shearer, McMillan and Baxter were bought to plug gaps, mind you, Shearer replaced John Little, another Scotland cap, Baxter displaced Billy Stevenson, who played for Scotland in a non-cap international, and went on to be a key player in Bill Shankly's Liverpool, while McMillan was in the twilight of an outstanding career when he was picked-up to fill a gap.

Compare that sort of calm team-building and sound investment in quality goods with McCoist's method of throwing money around at car boot sales.

And, banning the BBC - nae class and certainly nae Rangers class. To quote that great North of England philosopher Mr Royle: "Dignity - my arse". 

Here We Go Again - Turkeys Call For Early Christmas

I OCCASIONALLY contribute to the excellent SCOTTISH LEAGUE website, run by David Ross, a fine man who is quite happy to pontificate on the failings of Scottish football in general, and Kilmarnock in particular, from his seat behind the goal in the Camp Nou. Well, if I could live in Barcelona, I would.

David currently has a thread running on the forum, entitled: League Reconstruction, Part 96; although, after this week, he might have to move on to part 97.

I refer to the efforts of probably next season's SFL1 membership to fast-track themselves into the SPL, or, at least an SPL2.

Given the way the failing, indeed failed SPL is currently organised, with that ludicrous 11-1 voting structure in place, the decision of the ten clubs, apparently made at a meeting at Hamilton's New Douglas Park on Thursday night, is surely another instance of turkeys voting for Christmas.

If they think the tiny coterie of Hampden Half-wits who effectively run the SPL - Messrs Lawwell, Petrie, Milne, Thompson and Doncaster will give these suckers an even break, or anything like a mandate to influence the way the SPL is run - then they have another think coming.

The SPL has been a failure from the day and hour it was set-up. Certainly Scottish football back then was ripe for change; equally certainly it is over-ripe for change today, but, ten clubs walking away from the SFL into that failed entity the SPL is not the change the game needs.

I cannot, honestly, see this happening. I don't think they have read the rule book properly, but, if it does, they will quickly regret their actions.

Real change in Scotland has to involve ALL the clubs, not just ten not very good ones with an inflated sense of their own importance. Bad move this.

I CANNOT help thinking - what a pity Charles Green has gone. His reaction to the ten-club breakaway might well have been gold dust to the hard-pressed foot soldiers of the mainstream media in Scotland.

I would love to think Charles would immediately have announced that Rangers were leaving for England and set this move in motion. That would really have set the cat among the pigeons. As it is, I don't see the current Ibrox hierarchy thinking along these lines, but, let there be no doubts, just how Rangers react to this move could have a crucial bearing on events. Money after all talks.

Well, it will make for an interesting close season.

I HAVE sympathy for Neil Lennon, caught-out on a technicality by "breaching" his touchline ban at Motherwell at the weekend.

Should the full might of SFA "justice" - no tittering at the back there - fall on wee Neil, it will be a disgrace. It also in a way justifies Celtic paranoia - "they", whoever "they" are, really do have it in for, if not the club, then wee Lenny. 

Come On Tam - Do A Reverse Waldo

I ALWAYS liked Wallace Mercer, 'The Great Waldo', the alleged Rangers supporter who revived Hearts a couple of decades or so ago. Of course, like all Hearts revivals this one was short-lived and the Jambos were soon back where they are happiest, clutching at straws as their club happily sat and watched the big two dominate.

Now, Hearts are again in trouble, following the collapse of Valdimir Romanov's personal bank back in Lithuania. By the way, what is it with Edinburgh and Lithuania? A Lithuanian buys Hearts and the world's most-famous Edinbugger Shir Shean Connery's only half-decent performance in the past 25-years came as the Lithuanian submarine captain in 'The Hunt For Red October'.

But, I digress. Events back in Vilnius could perhaps see Hearts sold-off cheaply; or could lead to the closure of the old club. These will be an interesting few weeks down Gorgie way.

It could even transpire that Hearts are thrown into administration, the 15-point mandatory points deduction kicks-in and Hearts are relegated. Now, wouldn't that be rich - Dundee get into the SPL after one liquidation, are seemingly relegated, then reprieved before the end of the season by another liquidation? And, it could happen.

Whatever transpires around the Edinburgh club, things can only get better than they have been of late under Mad Vlad's chaotic stewardship.

Which brings me back to The Great Waldo. His star went into eclipse after he tried to amalgamate Hearts and Hibs, only to be repulsed by a mass outpouring of outrage down Leith way, and the intervention of Sir Tom Farmer - an event which suggested to me that Edinbuggers were every bit as tribal as Weegies.

Of course, as Ian Bell suggested in his mildly funny book about the foibles of the Weegie v Edinbugger debate, a single question differentiates between the two cities. That question is: "What school did you go to"? 

The wrong answer in Glasgow could get you hospitalised, in Edinburgh it could get you ostracised from polite society.

If Herioters, Watsonians, Academicals, Stewart's-Melvillians and even the common herd who went to Royal High or Boroughmuir can come together to watch Edinburgh on a Friday night, why could not the guys who from Wester Hailes, Muirhouse, Niddrie and Saughton for instance come together of a weekend to support a united Edinburgh team?

We cling to historical, tribal entities in Scottish football. Two clubs in Dundee, each playing to a loyal home crowd base of some 5000 die-hards is absurd today. Two clubs in Edinburgh, each with a loyal crowd base of some 7500-9000 (if the team is playing well) is only slightly less absurd.

One Edinburgh team makes far more sense, but, it will probably never happen, so long as wee Tam Farmer is alive. But, by the time he dies, Hearts might already be dead.

Now there's an idea - why doesn't Tom Farmer do a Waldo and buy Hearts? He might be a Leither, but, the idea of the wee toon club buying up and saving the city club has some appeal.

Naw, couldn't happen - Wee Eck Salmond would never allow it.

I SEE big Stevie Clarke, the West Brom manager, is less than pleased with Baggies fan Adrian Chiles, who suggested, at the club's big end of season party that stroppy striker Peter Odemwingie had been "Tit of the Year".

When did a man from the Three Toons get so touchy and sensitive? I blame all these years of southern sloth among the Chelsea chattering classes.

If a player with an Ayrshire junior team had been as stupid as big Peter, some fan would surely have nutted him lang syne.

Ignore The Doping Spaniards Tom - Get Into The Dopey Scots Officials

TOM English, Chief Sports Correspondent of Scotland and Sunday and The Scotsman is arguably the top commentator on sport in Scotland today. Not the top writer about sport, however, that title resides with the three-quarters retired Doug Gillon of The Herald.

Tom has just contributed his thoughts on the Spanish Doping controversy to scotsman.com, the Hootsman's website. For those whose world of sport is encompassed by Scottsih football, I would suggest having a look at the piece, a good read and very erudite it is.

At the same time, along the M8 at The Herald building at the top of Renfield Street, my old mucker Kevin Ferry is this week having his say on the make-up of the British & Irish Lions squad which was named this week for the forthcoming tour to Australia.

Kevin makes some very salient points about the ways of the SRU and how these have led to Scotland - the country of Lions Legends such as Darkie Bedell-Sivright, Dan Drysdale, Herbert Waddell, Dan Davies, Laurie Duff, Jock Waters, Dr Doug Smith Arthur Smith, Mike Campbell-Lammerton, Jim Telfer, Broon Frae Troon, Mighty Mouse McLauchlan, Andy Irvine, Ian McGeechan, the Hastings Brothers, Fin Calder, David Sole, "Pigeon" Tait and Toony Townsend has now become the bit part nation when it comes to providing Lions for touring parties.

Kevin puts this down, in large part, to the failure of successive Murrayfield Mandarins to address the issues surrounding sport in Scotland.

The above-mentioned Doug Gillon, as THE premier athletics writer in the British Isles, has long made the same point regarding the state of Scottish athletics. If I can digress a bit here, at the weekend the excellent John Beattie, in his Saturday morning 'Sport Nation' programme on Radio Scotland asked listeners to text in with their top Commonwealth Games memory.

As it happened, my own one topped the list and I had a definite lump in my throat as I heard again David Coleman's memorable commentary on the last 200 metres or so of the 1971 Commonwealth Games 5000 metres final at Meadowbank: as two Scots, Ian McCafferty and Ian Stewart were roared home ahead of the great Kip Keino (even typing that, 42-years on, brings tears to my eyes). Stewart's and McCafferty's one-two is, for me, just millimetres ahead of Lachie Stewart destroying Ron Clarke in the 10,000 metres at the same games as THE Iconic Commonwealth Games moment for Scotland. Will we ever see something like that again?

IF you're still with me and wondering when I am going to get round to football, your wait is over.

Scottish Rugby - let down by officialdom. Scottish athletics - let down by officialdom. Their officials are, for my money only trying to catch-up with the world's most-consistently-outstanding awful officials, the Hampden Blazerati.

At least, Scottish rugby fans have, in the past 30-years, had the odd moment of joy - the 1984 and 1990 Grand Slams and the odd Calcutta Cup win for instance. Our athletics and minor sports fans have, as well as the two iconic wins highlighted above, been given cause to cheer by Liz (Lynch) McColgan, Yvonne Murray and the great Alan Wells, or by Chris Hoy, Catherine Grainger and others in Team GB kit.

What have our football fans had to cheer about since our annus mirabilis of 1967 (and don't forget, that year's win over England was almost as meaningless as the 1928 Wembley Wizards' victory in a wooden spoon Home International Championship decider)?

In short, nothing, zilch, failure. Even when we have qualified well for a tournament, as for the 1978 World Cup Finals, it has been a prelude to embarrassment.

Managers of the quality of Jock Stein and Alex Ferguson have failed with Scotland. Iconic players such as Jim Baxter, Denis Law, Kenny Dalglish, Jimmy Johnstone, Graeme Souness and Dave Mackay have known failure with Scotland.

We cannot - as we did with George Burley and Craig Levein - blame the managers. We are consistent only in our ability to fail. It has to be down to the system and the men who run that system.

If we get the officials we deserve, we must have done something terrible.

WHEN will the message sink-in. We MUST change the system and the mind-set if we are to move forward.

Now, if only Tom English would examine that, instead of the doping practices of a disgraced Spanish doctor, things might start to happen.

FINALLY, I trust we will not hear anything about the superb English Premiership or the wonderful La Liega between now and the European Cup Final at Wembley.

It wouldn't be right, with the seats covered in beach towels and goose-stepping Bayern and Borussia fans marching up Wembley Way to the strains of the Horst Wessel Liede, before belting-out Deutschland Uber Alles pre-match.

Or is that too-much like a Fawlty Towers story-line?

Speaking as a Mercedes driver - you've got to admire the Germans.