No Scotland - Not Much To Get Excited About

I HAVEN'T truly got into the 2014 World Cup - maybe it's not having Scotland to worry about, with each passing Jock-less World Cup, the feeling doesn't go away; I cannot enjoy it without Scotland to worry about.

Sure, Holland doing Spain was great; otherwise, by passing on the live broadcasts and watching the morning highlights package on BBC, you don't miss all that much. Of course, the over-egging of the Engerlund, Engerlund, Engerlund pudding by the EBC, and perhaps even more so by ETC, has again began to grate.

Still, wearing my ABE t-shirt, I will be rooting for Uruguay tonight!!!

Not that I am anti-English, I simply relish the wailing and gnashing of teeth, from the English media,  which will follow their inevitable early exit. Well, when you are as poor as Scotland, you have to get your kicks somewhere.

Mind you, I am not entirely confident about Uruguay's chances of beating England tonight. This one has  draw written all over it.



BRAZIL have disappointed thus far, but, their squad is really under almost intolerable pressure to win the thing, and, I think this is getting to the players. Pressure to win did for Brazil in 1950 - might history repeat itself this year?



HIGHLIGHTS, thus far, have come from the pundits. I laughed at Neil Lennon's wee aside about big Amrbose and his inability to cross the ball. Away from the Glasgow madhouse, the ginger one has emerged as a cogent and thr#oughtful voice, and, hopefully, in the process done his hopes of a good gig in the English Premiership no hard.

I laughed even more when Gordon Strachan caught himself saying "We" in the context of England's hopes, then wanted to be thrown into the sea quickly, to cool off. Nicwe wee side-step from Daily Record criticism there Wee Man.



HOWEVER, for Scots, the big football story at the moment continues to be the soap opera Edmiston Drive. Charlie Green coming back, why not also Grant Mitchell, to bump him off and do us all a favour?

It will all end in more tears.

A Wee Bit Messi - But, They Won

LIONEL Messi has had a tough season. Barcelona are apparently on the wane, all the kickings he has endured over the years are beginning to take their toll, and he missed a chunk of last season through injury.

 

He needs, therefore, a good World Cup; he has to inspire Argentina in a manner which no player has managed since the implosion of Diego Maradona. Messi, like El Diego, is a very-special player, but, it might be argued, he is not surrounded with the quality of lesser player who supported Maradona.

 

Certainly, the likes of Aguero and Macherano are still fine players, but, particularly at the back, Argentina are not what they were and Messi is being asked to operate from a place of relative weakness, when compared to the hand with which Maradon had to play.

 

So, given the pressure he was under, the wee magician, I feel, put on a good show last night. OK, as ever, his performance was a wee bit over-rated by the TV critics; he was well-handled by the Bosnians, but, in a genuine show of class, he scored with the best, maybe the only, chance he got, and, having previously weighed-in with an assist for the opener, his was a good captain's performance.

 

But, the rest of the men in blue and white stripes, will have to get closer to their skipper's standards, if they are to figure at the sharp end of the tournament.

 

 

 

THE other big talking-point from Sunday's games was the French goal, the first in World Cup history, to be awarded by the new goal-line technology. Maybe, if FIFA had explained pre-tournament, how the technology would work when it came to public consumption, the kerfuffle between the referee getting the "goal" signal and awarding the strike, might have been averted. Hopefully, they will get it more-correct the next time.

 

A mention too, for the Brazilian referee in the France v Honduras match. I refer to his great good sense in booking Pogba and his Honduran sparring partner after their coming together in the first half.

 

A lot of referees would, perhaps, have booked the Honduran, then sent-off the Frenchman for his retaliation, but, Senor Ricci used his common sense to book both and calm things down. Sadly, the Honduran defender didn't learn, had another go at the big Juventus man, conceded a penalty and copped a second yellow and then a red card - silly boy.

 

I hoped, in vain, that wee Neil Lennon would chip in when it came to discussing Izzy's yellow card. After all, had he commited that foul in a Celtic strip, in a SPFL game, he would, had he been unlucky, sustained, at worse, a stern talking-to.

 

 

 

MIND you, the refereeing decision of the night was the sadvantage which the referee allowed for Switzerland to score that late, late, winner. Very good officiating indeed. 

Let's- This Once - Not Laugh At England

I AM not going to get carried away, but, just maybe, after their loss to the Italians last night, some of our neighbours South of the Solway, will, grudgingly, concede that, when we of the Tartan Army tell them: "You're shite, but you don't know you are", we are singing from a wish to alleviate pain and suffering, not being twisted, jealous "Sweaties", merely offering significant insight.

After all, is not the Tartan Army, through years of exposure to the stuff, the font of all knowledge when it comes to identifying shite football teams?

Those arbiters of good football sense, the English media, will, as ever, attempt to "spin" last night's defeat as, yet another, case of: "Our brave lads giving their all and coming up just short".

Pre-match, I was convinced Italy would win; this morning, I am again wishing I had the strength of my convictions and had wagered some of my hard-earned on Mario Balotelli scoring the winning goal. This outcome was, considering the torrid time the Italian centre forward endured at the hands of the Saxon "Fans with lap tops", always likely.

Similarly, given the two countries now face a "Must Win" match, in Sao Paolo, on Thursday night; regardless of the fact the odds on this evenbtually will be slashed by the bookies - I feel a small wager on Luis Suarez getting Uruguy's winner might pay dividends.

However, less any English visitor, and whoever you are, sir or madam, welcome; this particular Sweatie wishes our neighbours no ill-will. There were moments of hope amidst the disappointment of last night.

Some of the younger men in white offer hope for the future, Stevie Gerrard remains a class act, Roy Hodgson is a good manager - his team is not out of things yet.

Sure, the Uruguay game is, as I said earlier, a "Must Win" game. Furthermore, even some of the red top tabloid hacks have ratcheted back their normal "Engerlund Expects" rhetoric as a new sense of realism has struck home. But, last night's loss was not the end of the world.

Oh how I wish it had been us.

LET us now consider the other big game of last night, the Scotland women's team's loss to Sweden, at Motherwell.

Sure, it was a disappointing set back for the girls, but, as I listened to the BBC Scotland radio commentary, I was struck by how many chances we made - and missed. On another night.....

The Swedish girls are an outstanding outfit, but, we ran them close. The Swedes were always favourites, they will now probably, as expected, win the group, but, the play-off place is still up for grabs and, we can still get to Canada next year.

Scotland back at a World Cup, what an example that would set for our men. Gaun yersel hen!!

FINALLY, Costa Rica beating Uruguay last night should make us feel better. They can beat good teams too, and maybe we should give them more credit for beating us back at Italia '90.

Then, we should maybe ask - did we learn from that?

No.

Did we learn from losing to Paraguay in 1958, not scoring enough goals against Zaire in 1974, Peru and Iran in 1978, failing to beat ten-man Uruguay in 1986, not beating Norway, then losing to Morocco in 1998?

Maybe, instead of blaming Tommy Younger in 1958; Willie Ormond, Peter Lorimer, Denis Law and Joe Jordan in 1974, Ally MacLeod, Willie Johnston and Don Masson in 1978; Willie Miller and Alan Hansen in 1982; Alex Ferguson and Stevie Nicol in 1986; Andy Roxburgh and Jim Leighton in 1990; Craig Brown and Craig Burley in 1998, we ought to be blaming the men who have really held Scotland back these past 50-years or so - the Hampden blazers.

I fear, until we have a bonfire of the blazers, we will be condemned to be on the outside, looking in, on the big occasions.

The Future's Bright - The Future's Oranje - Or Is It?

WELL. Did anyone see that one coming? I refer to Holland's demolition of Spain in the outstanding game - thus far - of the World Cup. Four years ago, in South Africa, I hoped The Oranje would re-discover the flair and elan of past masters and have a go at the Spanish. Instead, they settled for a square-go, and, in every way but via goals, lost heavily.

 

Last night was retribution, in spades. Of course, the Dutch being quite simply, Scotland with skill, will probably self-destruct somewhere between now and the end of the tournament, but, Robbin and Van Persie have already left us with memories which will keep us going until 2018.

 

It was sad to see Cassillas have such a bad night. But, like poor Frank Haffey all those years ago, he seems fated to carry the can for failings in front of him.

 

Chile v Australia was another cracking game. I am enjoying this World Cup already.

 

 

 

FORTY applicants to replace Big Tel at Easter Road - just goes to show the continuing appeal of football management, as Old Big 'Ead himself - Brian Clough - said, the only occupation in which the only guarantee is the sack, eventually.

 

Leeanne Dempster will be busy sifting through the wannabees, but, it was interesting this week to see the announcement of a grassroots development agreement between Hibs and Spartans. This might not do much for whoever Ms Dempster eventually appoints, but, could have significant implications for his successor, or successor plus one.

 

 

 

MY SECOND daughter is a chartered librarian, who seems determined to augment my small knowledge of football. For Father's Day, as well as a nice bottle of something fruity and red, she presented me with 'The Numbers Game', sub-titled: "Why everything you know about football is wrong".

 

This book, by Chris Anderson and David Sally is, according to the plugs on the cover: "A must read" - 'Moneyball's' Billy Beane; "The book that could change football for ever" - 'The Times'; and, "Makes the beautiful game even more beautiful" - Malcolm Gladwell.

 

It is a smashing read, thus far, and I still have a long way to go, since it isn't "holiday" reading, but requires time and thought. However, already, it is clear, that luck and happenstance has arguably more relevance in the game than skill and tactics. Fascinating stuff.

EARLIER this week, self and some other coffin dodgers were on a night-out with the gentleman's club to which I belong. As we came away from the sports centre we had been at, an Under-10s boys team was in training.

 

Their coaches, looked to be stereotypical of their breed - they had the kids working hard on running, with narry a ball in sight.

 

One of our group, a man with many years' experience of the old pre-Top Ten, Scottish First Division, looked on, then pontificated.

 

"There' the future of Scottish Fitba for you - they'll be able to run all day, but unable to trap a bag of cement".

 

Ah, the wisdom of the ages.

  

Even The Ayrshire Faithful Are Starting To Lose Faith in Rangers

DOWN here, in God's Orange County, NOT being a Rangers' supporter is grounds for being dubbed: "The Only Gay In The Village". For instance, when I say "The Sash" was my school song - I am not completely kidding.

 

The on-going stooshies in the script of Edmiston Drive, that long-running football "soap", which has, these past two and a bit years, been far-more entertaining than River City, continues to exercise minds down here.

 

Just this week, I found one of my friends, a retired polis, almost in tears as he considered the awful truth - the current tribute act could well go the way of real Rangers (1872-2012). This prospect is, to him and many others around here, very real.

 

At least, it helps keep our tortured Scottish minds off our nation's absence from the World Cup.

 

 

 

NOT that all is sweetness and light in the East End of Glasgow. On paper, their new manager seems like the same sort of Scandinavian, left-field recruit as The Magnificent Seven proved to be back then. There is a lot to be enthusiastic and excited about in his CV.

 

However, managing Celtic is not quite like managing a provincial Norwegian team - not lerast when it comes to meeting the expectations of the fan base. Still, Peter Lawwell hasn't made too-many mistakes thus far, so, we wish Ronald well.

 

More-worrying, perhaps, was that the Celtic big bosses felt it necessary to recruit the Blessed Bunnet to try to engourage the natives into buying season tickets.

 

 

 

IT WILL be interesting to see who gets the Easter Road gig. The Championship is already shaping-up to be THE division in Scotland in the new season, and, IF, after so-many recent bad appointments, Hibs get it right, they will, at the very least, be looking at a promotion play-off place.

 

Real Stars Don't Join Tribute Acts

THE thing about tribute acts is, they fill a need. The real Rangers probably died when Sir David Murray and Graeme Souness decided to sign Mo Johnston - the first openly acknowledged Roman Catholic to play for the club.

That SHOULD have drawn a line under the old archly-Protestant Rangers Ra Peepul. Triumphalist, underlining the "right" of the skilled pro-Unionist Presbyterian Scot to rule the roost up here, at least in football.


Post-Mo, things started to change. Of course, some die-hards objected and are still objecting, to what they saw as the death of one of their club's "traditions" being under-mined. Yes, of course, there have been changes - for instance some old Rangers men probably burled in their graves when Lorenzo Amoruse, an Italian Roman Catholic was appointed Rangers manager. But, today, there is still a hard core of "traditionalists" who would far rather watch a Rangers team of 11 Protestant Scotsmen than the current multi-national team. Others might not be happy with Roman Catholics, or Muslims, wearing the famous blue strip, but, as long as Rangers keep winning, they will put up with things.


On the opposite side, there are Celtic supporters who view the signing of Mo-Jo as pandering to a "traitor", and who see the all-embracing Rangers of today as window dressing. They still hate Rangers, as Rangers supporters hate Celtic, but, they would maybe hate them more if they were still the Rangers of old.


Other Celtic supporters take every opportunity to rubbish the continued use of the Rangers name. "Your team's deid", they tell the continuing Peepul.


That may be correct, however, if it looks like a duck, waddles like a duck and quacks - the chances are, it's a duck. By that yard stick, the "Rangers" which will play in the SPFL Championship next season can be regarded as Rangers-continuing. Certainly, they are keeping the Rangers brand alive.


I tend to treat this Rangers as a tribute act. They dress the same, they play in the same stadium, but, I don't think they had the standards and ethos of the pre-SDM Rangers, good and bad though these standards might have been.


However, one thing you never see with a tribute act is, one of the originals still playing. While there may be litigation and arguments along the way, were Sir Paul McCartney and/or Ringo Starr to go back on the road as "The Beatles", nobody would see the group as anything but The Beatles, even though there is no way John Lennon or George Harrison could be up there. In pop music, unless two memebers of the originals are fronting competing groups, under the same name, the group with the foremost original member still strutting his stuff is seen as the real thing.


That's how it works on the live entertainment, recording, side of the entertainment industry. It's not the same on the football side of things. So, bringing back Kenny Miller (again), to my mind, does not give legitemacy to the Rangers tribute act.


They wear the same strip, they play in the same stadium, they still attract much the same level of committed supporters, but, for me: until they get back to being an essentially Scottish team, bringing through Scottish-reared players, this currnt Rangers will not be the real thing, and, bringing back Kenny Miller, who, for all his talents, is yesterday's man. doesn't make them any more legitemate.






WHILE Rangers are looking backwards, Celtic are looking ahead, with Ronald Dhal (I think) seemingly set to be the next manager at Parkhead. Well, it's a good choice - much of the Celtic Family's back story has been distorted by fairy tales and distortion.


He's certainly a left-field appointment, but, the new guy, should he take the job, brings an impressive CV, a good track record and, he should be good for the club and hopefully for Scottish football.






MEANWHILE, elsewhere, maybe the Hibs fans should re-think their plans to get rid of Rod Petrie. He has made a good appointment in taking Leann Dempster to Easter Road, just as, in the past, he has appointed some (on paper) good managers at the club, with devastating lack of results.


Petrie has, for my money, been a good steward at the club. However, that's what he is, a steward. The real power in Leith resides with my old mucker Tommy Farmer.


Shouting "Petrie Out", no matter for how long and how loud, will not move Tommy. For as long as TF has faith in Petrie, Rod is safe.


IF the Hibs fans genuinely want rid of Rod, they have to persuade TF that there is someone out there who could do a better job. And, that will not be easy, and perhaps not possible.

We Lost - Blame Me

THAT'S it - I have been telt by some of the field officers of the Afton Army: I am banned from attending future Glenafton Athletic Junior Cup Finals. The Glen have now been in five Junior Cup Finals, I have witnessed the four they have lost - to Irvine Meadow in 1962, Auchinleck Talbot in 1992, Largs in 1994 and Saturday's loss to Hurlford United. I missed the only one they have won, against Tayport in 1993.

So, the troops have decided, I am a jinx and I have now been banned, sine die.

Big Ryan McChesney's inexperience was exposed when he gave away the first penalty, after two minutes. I thought Ross Robertson was already on the way down when McChesney helped him on his way. The fact the 'Ford front man was heading away from goal, only makes big Chessy's poor decision-making worse.

I thought Chessy was hung out to dry with his second penalty concession and red-carding. I thought at the time, any contact was outside the box. Eldest daughter, watching back home in New Cumnock, says there was no contact.

However, referee Colin Steven, who gave the Glen nothing, from start to finish, was seemingly looking for an excuse to red-card Chessy, and duly did. The referee was a disgrace; it was a case of - a Glenafton player fouls a Hurlford one, free-kick and yellow card. A Hurlford player fouls a Glenafton one, possibly a free-kick, and a: "don't do it again" lecture.

If this is the standard of referee the SFA is promoting, we are all doomed.

That said, the better team won. Even had Glenafton kept all 11 men on the park, and had the hapless official been a bit more even-handed in his officiating, 'Ford would still have won.

I am delighted for Darren Henderson, who, in spite of all the furore about his pre-season switch of clubs, remains a thoroughly-likeable guy, who said and did all the right things.

Tommy Bryce, to be fair, lacks the Henderson chutpah, but, is a thoroughly solid and dependable operator. His rebuilding of Glen this season has been remarkable and, I am sure, the club will do well again next season.

Finally, I understand Sunday's final was the last for SJFA assistant secretary Joe Black, who is finally retiring, with Ian McQueen, big Gordon's elder brother, taking-up the dual role of SJFA assistant secretary and treasurer.

Joe should have been put out to grass years ago. He was an example of the arrogant, old school Hampden blazer - the game is better without him. I shall not miss him and his petty, nit-picking arrogant ways.

ROY Keane has, apparently, knocked back the chance to manage Celtic. I think the Celtic Family dodged a bullet there.