Stuff Fitba, Let's All Take Up Boolin'

RIGHT, after watching the Commonwealth Games, I think I have the answer for Scottish football. We turn every pitch into a bowling green, and we concentrate on a sport Scotland is good at. We sent ten boolers, male and female out to the Gold Coast, every one came back with a medal of some sort.

Alex "Tattie" Marshall - the epitome of Scottish sporting greatness

Alex “Tattie” Marshall, in skipping the victorious Four, took his gold medal tally past that of Allan Wells to become Scotland's most-successful gold medal winner in Commonwealth Games history. Nae harm to the great “Tattie”, but, he is surely the benchmark for a successful Scottish sportsman – baldie-heided, several stones overweight, but, absolutely brilliant at what he does. I've seen our sporting future.

THIS is Scottish Cup semi-final weekend. I will deal with the William Hill version of the national trophy below, but, I intend to start with real fitba, and the Junior Cup semi-finals.

That Auchinleck Talbot are involved is no secret, and nothing new. In today's first legs of the two-legged semis, they entertain Lochee United at Beechwood Park, obviously hoping to build-up a sufficiently-big first-leg advantage to make the second leg, in the City of Discovery, a formality.

But, the real surprise package this season has been Wishaw Juniors, who have home advantage in their first leg, against Hurlford United. Ever since an influx of sponsorship money and the arrival of Darren Henderson as manager, United have gone from being just another struggling Ayrshire side, to one of the regular contenders for the major honours.

“Weeshee” meanwhile have been in the doldrums for years. They are currently lying in mid-table in the McBookie, Central District First Division – albeit with a lot of games in hand and facing an end-of-season fixtures pile-up. That's the third level in the West, while Hurlford, although struggling in the relegation zone, play their bread and butter league football two leagues higher up.

On paper, United should win, but, this is knock-out, Junior Cup football and anything can and probably will happen. With near-neighbours Motherwell involved in the senior semi-final, against Aberdeen today, this is a big day for Motherwell and Wishaw.

 Scottish fitba's most-enduring love affair Tucker, Talbot and the Junior Cup

As I said above, Talbot will be firm favourites to make home advantage count against Lochee, but, Talbot boss Tucker Sloan will be taking nothing for granted and will treat the visitors with the utmost respect. These should be two good games – which isn't always the case with the tensions evident in semi-finals.

Elsewhere in junior football, and in God's County of Ayrshire - there is an intriguing local derby in the Garnock Valley, with West Premier Division leaders Kilwinning Rangers making the short trip to Kilbirnie, to take on fourth-placed Ladeside. No love lost between these two, ever, so this clash should be tasty, and Valefield Park no place for the faint-hearted.

THE Senior semi-final interest has, naturally, given the attention-span of the average Scottish fitba-writing hack, been all about the Bigot Brothers.

Can Rangers knock known form and league position on its head and win Sunday's meeting of the mindless at Hampden? Of course they can, particularly with a local derby but, that said – anything other than a Celtic win will be a major surprise. Brendan Rodgers and his squad really want that second straight treble, and should manage it.

But, as the late, great “Solly”, James Sanderson always cautioned, never forecast what will happen in an Old Firm game.

Today's first semi-final, between Aberdeen and Motherwell has, not unexpectedly, been somewhat overshadowed, but, of the two ties this one is the harder to call. On league position and current form Aberdeen should win but, Motherwell have turned them over already this season and, with the Dons missing three key men, are quite capable of doing so again, to set-up another cup final crack at Celtic.

MY MATE Johnny is getting a wee-bit excited this week. Johnny is a regular Somerset Parker who is hoping for an upset this afternoon, when Queens Park travel to Starks Park to take-on Raith Rovers.

Because, should the Spiders, languishing at the foot of the table, upset the odds and do a number on Raith, and the Honest Men turn over Stranraer at Somerset, United will win Ladbrokes League 1. Ian McCall's men have a five-point advantage over the Fifers, with just three games remaining, which, on-paper is a nice wee buffer to have.

Ian McCall - his Ayr team are on the cusp of promotion

But, there is nothing Stranraer like better than going up the A77 to put one over on Ayr – well nothing other than heading along the A75 to upset Queen of the South; so nobody around Somerset Road is taking anything for granted.

The automatic promotion spot to the Championship is now United's to lose, and, while the party might have to wait another week or two, I cannot see such an experienced boss as McCall letting such a great position slip.

GREAT expectations too, at the Paisley 2021 Stadium this afternoon, where St Mirren need a mere one point to clinch their return to the top flight.

The Buddies will be hoping to clinch that elusive point this afternoon, but, it will not be easy, since their visitors are second-placed Livingston. Everything adds up to another big day in Paisley, and, having lost to Dundee United last time out, Jack Ross will certainly want promotion done and dusted ASAP, which means tomorrow.

As an old Paisley Daily Express hand, I have a huge soft spot for the Buddies plus a good few friends who will be anxiously hoping to roar their favourites home this afternoon.

LADBROKES League 2 is all-too-often overlooked in Scottish football, which is a shame this season. Because the promotion and title battle in the bottom division has been the best over the four senior divisions.

The fight for the automatic promotion spot, between leaders Montrose and Peterhead, who trail the Gable Endies by three points, looks likely to go down to the wire. It's a case of top v bottom today, with Montrose entertaining second-bottom Berwick, while Peterhead host the basement-occupying “Blue Brazil.”

The SRU Is Trying To Make Things Better - When Will The SFA Do Likewise?

THE esteemed Aristotle Armstrong, my old sparring partner here in the Sports Philosophy department, within the Scottish campus of the School of Hard Knocks at the University of Life is, as I have mentioned before, currently engaged in a guerrilla war with the “suits” at BT Murrayfield. The “suits” have embarked on a power grab which will, Aristotle tells me, have disastrous effects on Scottish Rugby.

The Scottish Rugby Union, (SRU) , like the Scottish Football Association, (SFA), is supposedly a collective of like-mined individuals and clubs, whose aim is the promotion of their particular code of football. In respect of this, the world governing bodies of each of the footballing codes, has devolved local governance of their code of football to the respective organisations – the SFA and SRU.

Apart from the shape of ball and goals, the marking-out of the playing area and the number of players per team; not forgetting the fact, football is 11-a-side and rugby 15-a-side: one major difference is the over-riding ethos of the two governing bodies. From the outside, looking-in, it seems Murrayfield is obsessed with the national team, as the font of all the goodness, and the money, while Hampden, from the outside looking-in, appears to be all about creating a climate whereby two clubs can pretty much fuck with the rest and the game as they like.

It's an ill-divided fitba world

The playing field in Scottish football is an uneven one, particularly in terms of finance and influence. For instance, last weekend (7-8 April), there were the usual six fixtures in the Scottish Professional Football League's (SPFL's) Ladbrokes Premiership. There were more spectators (49,142) at Ibrox for the Rangers v Dundee game than at the other five grounds – the combined attendance for the other five being 24,932.

The previous weekend (31 March-1 April), with Celtic attracting 58,765 to their home game against Ross County, the other five games attracted a total attendance of 50,741.

Take Motherwell for instance: “the best of the rest, i.e. the clubs who will be outwith the top six in the league, and the battle for European football next season, at the end of the current campaign. They are, if you like, the “par” team in the division; beat them, you are in the mix, below them, you are in trouble.

They have played seven home games in 2018, their meeting with Rangers attracted 8915 fans to Fir Park, their game against Celtic pulled-in 8717. That's 17,632 fans for two games, an average of 8816 fans per game. The other five games, against Ross County, Partick Thistle, St Johnstone, Kilmarnock and Aberdeen – admittedly including two midweek matches (Aberdeen and St Johnstone) attracted a total of 20,479 spectators, an average of 4096 per game.

So, not only does the Big Two's huge fan base give them a financial advantage at home, their away following provides a boost to the other clubs. It is therefore in everyone's interest to maintain a situation whereby these two clubs can dominate. In a way, the relationship between the Big Two and the rest is symbiotic, in fact, in some ways it is parasitic. Just as oxpeckers live on the backs of wildebeests and other African mammals, or Remora or Pilot Fish live off sharks and other larger marine life, so, the smaller Scottish clubs live off the Big Two.

Drawing either one in the Scottish Cup is a Godsend to the lower league clubs, while the three or four visits per season, plus the TV money for a live game, is a boost to the finances of the struggling Premiership sides. OK to host them, they have to put-up with a degree of offensive behaviour, but, since behaving offensively at football is no longer a criminal act – why bother trying to change a system, even a discredited one, which works to the satisfaction of the clubs.

The great European downhill slide

The guys running the clubs might be happy with things, but, are the fans? For instance, Scotland was one of the pioneers of European football. When it all started back in the mid-1950s, while the (English) Football Association leant heavily on League champions Chelsea to stay out of the new European Cup, Scotland, although champions Aberdeen couldn't enter, due to the lack of floodlights, Hibs stepped in, and reached the semi-finals. That was the first of 63 years of constant European competition for Scottish clubs and, in the early days – we did well.

Hibs, semi-finalists in 1955-56, the inaugural season. Rangers, semi-finalists in 1959-60, Celtic, let us never forget, WINNERS in 1966-67, finalists again in 1970. In the lesser competitions, the Cup-Winners Cup, Rangers reached the inaugural final in 1961, were finalists again in 1967, before winning it in 1972. Aberdeen won it in 1983. Dundee reached the European Cup semi-final in 1963, Dundee United have also reached the last four, and been in the final of the UEFA Cup.

Will we ever see their likes again?

But, these relative successes were back in the 20^th century. Since the Millennium, we had Celtic – as any of the estimated 5,000,000 fans who travelled with them will tell you – were in the UEFA Cup final in 2003, as were Rangers in 2008. Let's just draw a veil over the last decade, during which Scotland has slid from being the 10^th ranked European footballing nation, to being ranked 25^th.

That doesn't stop the fans from turning out, apparently. We are still, the best attenders of football matches, per head of population, in Europe apparently. A wee question then, given the dominance of the so-called Old Firm, how many of these fans turn-up for football reasons, and how many for other reasons?

Should we maybe not be doing something, to try to get us back to being one of the top nations? Are we happy to see just two clubs being so dominant? To return for a moment to our European record: in those 63 seasons, 21 Scottish clubs have featured in Europe, half of our senior number. They have played 1195 games against European opponents, with the Old Firm participating in 628 of those games - 52%.

Shouldn't we be levelling the domestic playing field, and coming-up with a system whereby more of our clubs might enjoy more success in Europe? It might bridge the gap between the two Haves, and the other 40 Have Nots.

John Lambie RIP

IN MY lengthy career at the quotes face I have met many of the greats of management – in a professional capacity. Stein, Souness, Turnbull, McLean, Ferguson and more. Some were impressive, a couple on that list above qualify for the use of the C word, but, my favourites were the “characters” - Jock Wallace, Ally MacLeod, Jim Leishman, and, of course, John Lambie, who died this morning.

John Lambie (1941 - 2018)

That BBC documentary segment, of John letting rip at his Partick Thistle players during a half-time break at Firhill is television gold. My late father, who was an expert, was once complimented for his use of “colliery language” by NCB Chairman Lord Robens, was impressed at Lambie's innovative use of the Anglo-Saxon copulative verb as both verb, adjective and noun during the piece. Well, his faither was a miner, who had the good sense to send the teenaged Lambie down Polkemet Colliery, to see for himself the conditions under which he and their neighbours in Whitburn earned their daily bread. It worked, and young John never did have to go doon the pit.

As a player, he was a journeyman, over some 400 games for Falkirk, whom he joined as an 18-year-old from Whitburn Juniors, and St Johnstone, before he turned to his true calling, as a coach, initially with St Johnstone – where he had been one of the stalwarts of the great Willie Ormond-managed team which finished third in the old First Division, reached a League Cup final and took the name St Johnstone into Europe.

The next stop for the embryo coach was Easter Road, under Eddie Turnbull, another coach and manager fluent in bad language and invective. I would not have liked to have been a player who stepped out of line with those two around. While at Easter Road, Lambie claimed it was he, rather than Tony Higgins, who has claimed ownership of the story, who was sent to drag George Best out of his room at the North British Hotel, only to find George in bed with one of his Miss Worlds and a bottle of vintage champagne. If only it went wrong for more of us that way.

From Hibs, he went to Hamilton, as assistant to Bertie Auld, eventually succeeding the Lisbon Lion as manager at Hamilton Accies in January, 1984. Highlight of his nearly five years at Douglas Park was surely that unforgettable Scottish Cup win over Rangers at Ibrox. Adrian Sprott got the goal, but goalkeeper Dave McKellar was the real hero as he defied the Ibrox millionaires.

 Adrian Sprott got the goal, but Dave McKellar was the hero of Hamilton's Ibrox win

In November, 1988, he went to Partick Thistle for the first time, but, after only 11 months, he was back at Accies. Not for long, however, five months later, he was back at Firhill for a further five years.

First club Falkirk then came calling and he returned for an unhappy seventh month spell at Brockville, a chastening spell which caused him to turn his back on football for three full years, during which he concentrated on his true sporting love, racing pigeons – he had 80 at one point, and greyhounds – he once owned 14.

Lambie said during one interview: “I understand doos better than I do footballers, but, not as well as I do grehounds.” He also said looking after his doos and taking his dugs racing relaxed him.

In early 1999, with Thistle seemingly sliding towards the bottom division in Scotland, and, some feared, possible liquidation, he was persuaded back to Firhill for a third and final spell. The old magic still worked, as he stopped the slide, then guided the Jags back to the top flight, and kept them there.

There was no secret to what Lambie did. It was old-fashioned management, he was as likely to put an arm round a player as give him a “hair dryer” blast – in which art, many would have backed him against Ferguson. He particularly succeeded in getting the best out of allegedly “difficult” players such as Chic Charnley.

 Perhaps the son he never had; Lambie with Chic Charnely

In 2003, however, he handed-in his manager's coat and retired. Thistle put him on the board, and made him honorary vice-president. The Thistle fans voted him into their Hall of Fame, as did the Falkirk fans.

If the press has its way, he will get into the Scottish Football HoF as well. You see, in this game, getting a useable quote out of some managers is a bit like pulling teeth, without anaesthetic. Not with Lambie. Press conferences, particularly in his office at Firhill, were always joyous affairs; we never knew when it was coming, but, we knew at some point, he would deliver the quote we needed.

 Colin McGlashan - or is it Pele? in action for Partick Thistle

Some of the quotes were gold dust. We all the story of how, when the Thistle physio told him Colin McGlashan had concussion and didn't know who he was, Lambie replied: “Slap up roon the face wi a fucking wet sponge, tell him he's fucking Pele and send him back oot there.” A couple of other swear words might have been left out of that one, but, it remains a classic.

I remember, after one thoroughly miserable, gale-lashed match at Rugby Park, he bounced into the press room to tell the assembled hack pack: “Ah widnae hae sent ma doos oot in that the day.”

After he retired, he stayed retired, apart from a two-game cameo as Thistle caretaker boss, in 2004. We missed him, his big cigars and the fog of cigar smoke at the press conferences. We missed the forthright opinions, and the knowledge.

He was a true character. He fell-out with wife Mamie, but, managed to remain friends, in one of his last interviews, he told The Scotsman's Aidan Smith how, he still ran Mamie to and from her line dancing.

As illness took its toll, the doos went, as did the greyhounds, and, this morning, he was called to the great dug-out in the sky. We will miss him, and remember him fondly, but, not as much as Mamie, his three daughters and his grand-children will.

Today, we lost a giant, and a giant character.

Scotland - Good At Other Sports, So Why Are We Shite At Fitba?

WHEN it comes to Sport, I find myself torn somewhere between the view of my mentor and idol, the late, great, Ian 'Dan' Archer, whose motto was: “Always remember chaps, we are the comic pages of the paper,” and my second cousin, once removed, the equally late, and even greater Wullie Shankly: “You guys think football is a matter of life and death, it's more-important than that.”

Cousin Wullie took his fitba seriously - it must run in the family

I am, I have often been told: “Obsessed with Sport.” That's maybe going a bit far, but, to me Sport is more than 22 over-paid guys kicking a bag of air around. Some sports, I can take or leave, but, generally, if it's around or on TV, I am interested, and I am certainly interested in the ongoing Commonwealth Games on Australia's Gold Coast – where I am unashamedly behind the Scotland team.

Now, we are doing rather well out there, both in the pool and on the boards of the velodrome, the places of principal interest over the opening week. (“Whit the fuck his this tae dae wi fitba?” I hear you ask). Bear with me.

Any success which “the Home Countries” have in Australia has over the Games, is due in no small part to the effect of lottery-funding and Team GB's “obsession with medals” in seeing our top talent “hot-housed” in places such as Manchester, where the cycling team is based, Loughborough University, or, nearer home, Stirling University. The idea is to have the top talent from the four countries of the United Kingdom training and working together. However, once every four years, they split-up to represent their respective nations at the CG.

 Katie Archibald - even a Nationalist like me can view her success as a Union benefit

OK, a Team GB in football is a no-no, particularly for the Hampden “suits”, however, most of the current Scotland A squad play for English clubs; “receive wisdom” has it that the game in England is light years ahead of where we are up here. How come then, while the likes of Katie Archibald and Mark Stewart can move to Manchester and win Olympic, World, European and (with Scotland) Commonwealth gold medals – our footballers move south, but Scotland continues to fail to qualify for the big finals and be considered: “Shite” at home.

What about Mark Dry in the Hammer Throw yesterday? Out of the medals, one final throw to produce, and he nails it, to claim back-to-back Commonwealth Games bronze medals, with his best throw of the season. Aside from Leigh Griffiths' two exquisite strikes against England last season, can you think of many current Scots footballers who have done the business lately, when it mattered?

If there are two games at which Scotland excels, they are curling and bowls. In Las Vegas tonight, Bruce Moat's unsung young team will be going for bronze at their first World Curling Champions – having had to get past the Team GB Winter Olympics squad to qualify. On the Gold Coast, in the Bowls Triples final, Darren Burnett produced a string of quality bowls to skip Scotland to gold, in a gripping game against a very good Australian side.

And we still have “Tattie” Marshall and Paul Foster to come in the Pairs. Their win over England in the final in Glasgow four years ago – and in particular “Tattie's” 'Get it right up you' response to some barracking from the English fans, was one of the highlights of the Glasgow games. Can I say, at this point, however, for me, the highlight of the bowls in Glasgow was one particular delivery from one of the members of the English disabled bowling triple. I regret, I have forgotten this gentleman's name, but, he delivered his bowls from a specially-adapted shoe, the bowl being laced on a sort of saucer on his left foot. That delivery just might be the best use of a left foot in Glasgow since Jim Baxter hung up his boots.

Aye, Scotland might be shite at fitba, but, we can do the business elsewhere.

EVER since I first saw him, as an 18-year old stand-out in a Manchester United youth team at Somerset Park, I have been a Paul Pogba fan.

 Paul Pogba, a promising boy who has grown-up and delivered

His consistency this season has, admittedly, not been great. However, just in time to uphold that old chestnut: “Form is transient – class is permanent,” the big Frenchman with the world's worst taste in haircuts, came up with a brilliant performance, topped by two very good goals, as United put a spanner in the spokes of City's seemingly serene progress to another Premiership title.

The odds are still in favour of the men from the Etihad, but, the fact they have, in two huge games this week, been terrible and lost to fierce rivals, must make one question their title credentials.

WE ARE now getting to the “tickly bit” of the season, and the great and good of the SFWA (Scottish Football Writers Association) are beginning to hype their personal choices for the individual prizes such as Player and Manager of the Year.

The “Celtic-minded” among them will be keen to establish that Brendan Rodgers wins the managerial title. For me, however, what Stevie Clarke has achieved at Kilmarnock has been quite exceptional. Given the huge financial advantage he enjoys, it will be a disaster if Rodgers does not win another Treble, but, one wonders if he could have, with the same resources Clarke has at his disposal, oversee the turn-around in Killie's fortunes.

Boydie and Clarkie - used to winning, so why not at the end of the season?

And, why not a Kilmarnock double? There has not really been a single outstanding individual in Scottish football this season – other than Kris Boyd. Other players have produced great wee cameos, but, the fat man from Tarbolton has simply done what he does – stuck the ball in the net with monotonous regularity.

Kris has also supplied a lot of entertainment, both from his goal-scoring celebrations and from his media pronouncements. I cannot think of another player who has provided so much entertainment this season – and, football at professional level, is supposedly a branch of the entertainment business.

Special Goals Should Be Applauded Whoever Scores

THE object of the game of Association Football is to win, by scoring more goals than the opposition. It stands to reason therefore, that old Nick Smith was right, back in The Rover of blessed 1950s memory, when his adventures were headed: “It's Goals That Count.”

That goal

So, I have news for all those media men, who have been positively wetting themseves with excitement since CR7 propelled himself into the Turin air on Tuesday night to unleash that spectacular bicycle kick goal past Gianluigi Buffon – that wasn't the first goal ever scored. For all that, it was a memorable effort, which will be long remembered, as much for the: “what could I have done about it” shrug from the Juve defender who was supposed to be marking him.

But, goals do count, and, although they don't count double – truly memorable strikes are remembered, long after the other 89 minutes, however many seconds of the game they were scored in, are forgotten.

I had to write a couple of Ray Wilkins obituaries, for different papers, yesterday. Now, unlike CR7, “The Crab” didn't score many goals, but, when he did, they tended to live long in the memory. His 22-yard volley against Celtic, in the 5-1 Ibrox win for Rangers in 1988, is still lovingly recalled by Ra Peepul, as was his only slightly shorter range effort against the same opponents later that season.

The televised tributes to: “The Nicest Man in Football” also showed his solo goal for England against Belgium in the 1980 Euros, and that got me thinking – what are my top ten of “Most Memorable Goals.”:

1. Jackie McInally - “Rambo's” more-talented faither, scored an absolute pearler for Kilmarnock against Motherwell back in 1960 or 1961; firing past a bemused Alan Wyllie from closer to the half-way line than the 18-yard line, into the teeth of a hurricane and driving rain at Rugby Park – with an old leather ball.
2. Bobby Charlton's first goal for England, a knee-high right-footed volley past Tommy Younger from ten yards, during the 1958 Scotland v England game at Hampden. The set-up, the run and cross from Tom Finney, was special, the finish even more-so. Younger ran out to half-way to congratulate the 20-year-old Charlton on his superb strike.
3. “Sanny” Sharp's clinching goal for Lugar Boswell Thistle in the Scottish Junior Cup semi-final against Broxburn Athletic, at Firhill in 1956. That goal, a solo, offside trap-springing run from half-way, meant the “Jaggy Bunnets” were going to Hampden for the first, and so-far only time.
4. Alan Gilzean's superb header past Gordon Banks, to win the 1964 Scotland v England game at Hampden. I am sure Gillie was above Gordon Banks when he headed home.
5. The Pele goal when he went past half the Swedish defence, lifting the ball over the last defender before volleying home, in the 1958 World Cup Final. I watched that game on TV; how could a 17-year-old score such a goal?
6. Davie Cooper's very similar goal past a bedraggled Celtic defence in the Dryburgh Cup final. Here was a Scottish player scoring a “Brazilian goal”. The only thing which maybe made the Pele goal better was, he was facing higher-calibre defenders.
7. Another as seen on TV goals – Eddie Gray's solo effort for Leeds United against Burnley. Look for it on You Tube, as he beats half the opposition inside the penalty box to score.
8. Archie Gemmill's goal. What else is there to say?
9. Joe Jordan's goal against the Czechs in 1973. Not in truth all that great a goal, but, what it stood for gets in it, all those years of failure, ended by a single header.
10. Maradona's “Hand of God” goal. Of course it should never have stood, but, come on, don't you think England deserved that?

I am sure, I could come up with another fifty or so goals, if I really thought about the matter, but, those ten will do for now. Mind you, as an old 'keeper, it sort of hurts to discuss such matters, every goal conceded hurts.

BEING Scottish, we will be on the outside, looking in, for a few Champions League campaigns to come, but, this week's quarter-final have restored my faith in football. We have seen three terrific games, Bayern v Seville wasn't so hot, and some terrific goals.

That was the old Anfield of the Shankly-Paisley era last night, with the Kop roaring out “You'll Never Walk Alone” and the Reds rampant. It will take some effort for Man City to overturn Liverpool's three-goal advantage at the Ethiad, but, with that team – you can never say never.

What a pity one or two idiots decided to have a go at the City team coach and spoil a fantastic night for Liverpool.

And while little Lionel didn't come up with a single solo moment to rival his big pal from Madrid's strike of the night before, he still came up with more moments of divine inspiration as Barca slaid Roma.

 The rivalry between these two, reminds me of

Normally, in football, the scribes decide, one player is supreme in any era. We are spoilt for choice today, between the glorious little 10 at Camp Nou, and the imperious big 7 at the Bernabau. To me, they are football's version of Fred Astaire and Gene Kelly.

To me Kelly, the CR7 figure, always seemed to be saying as he danced: “Watch me, aren't I great, see how clever I am.” Messi, like Astaire, seems to be saying: “Isn't it great to be getting paid for doing something this simple and this enjoyable.”

These two in their prime

Truth is, all four, the now-departed dancing geniuses and the still-performing footballers took great, God-given talent, and worked at it until they became the supreme artists they were and are.

And, in so doing they are following in the footsteps of many, including some special Scots such as Jinky, Slim Jim, Denis and Coop, whom I mentioned above.

The SFA To Redevelop and Run Hampden - Haud Me Back

FOR ME, the big fitba news of the last week was the announcement that the SFA had agreed in principle to buy Hampden Park from Queen's Park.

 Hampden - would you trust the SFA to rebuild it properly?

I have not deviated from my view, the best answer to our national stadium problem would be a brand new, purpose-built, state-of-the-art stadium, on a greenfield site, with great road and rail links, somewhere in central Scotland. But, this aint gonna happen any time soon, so, for the foreseeable future – we are stuck with Hampden.

I could have lived with Murrayfield, some of my best sporting memories revolve around the Edinburgh rugby ground, but, Hampden is the spiritual home of Scottish football, so, if we can, we ought to stay there.

Of course, the problem with the SFA buying Hampden is – well, it's the SFA. Do you really have faith in the Brains Trust along the sixth-floor corridor at Hampden to purchase the stadium at the right price, then bring it up to date properly – for I certainly don't.

Old Aristotle Armstrong, my friend the Scottish Rugby Philosopher is currently fighting the SRU's plans to introduce what Aristotle calls: “Stupid 6” - a new franchised league in Scottish rugby. This week, he got a reply to one of his blog posts, which included these lines:

“I’m coming more to the position that rugby committee men/directors are little different to their soccer equivalents- leave all business nous and sense at the committee/board room door as soon as their ass hits the committee/board chair.”

Aye, that one rings a bell. There is no way the SFA can pay any more than a token sum for Hampden. Funding the relocation of Queens Park – to either Lesser Hampden, or, for the romantics among us, back to Cathkin, then doing-up the Old Lady to the standard we would all wish, will require government assistance, that's a fact. The negotiations will be interesting.

EQUALLY interesting will be developments at Ibrox. Sure, whether or not Graeme Murty continues as manager is of interest, and, I have to say, his team played some very good football, but also made some basic mistakes against Motherwell on Saturday; I watched the game on BT Sport.

But, of more interest will be the next move of their Supreme Leader, that “Glib and Shameless Liar” David King. Thanks to losing a court case, he now has to find the cash to fund an offer, to purchase all the other shares in the club, at 20p per share.

 Dave King - little wriggle room with the courts

Now, there is some debate as to how much a Rangers share is currently worth, with, according to who you speak to, values these bits of paper at anywhere between 7p and 27p per share. When it comes to Rangers' finances, it is always worth seeing what old “Phil Four Names – the Donegal Blogger” has to say. His tame financial whiz-kid, “Rugger Man” is unimpressed by what he could glean from the unaudited mid-term returns from Rangers.

He also points out, in putting together his offer for the shares he does not own, King will have to abide by a degree of probity which he has, in the past, been accused of not reaching. Wishful thinking and estimates will not do, this is a legal document, the truth is required.

And, with some influential “Real Rangers Men” within the board room and Blue Room at Ibrox apparently less than enamoured with the conduct of the Supreme Leader, these continue to be interesting times for Rangers Watchers.

Let's face it, that club has been a basket case for years, the fun goes on.

THE Commonwealth Games will kick-off on Australia's Gold Coast later this week. What's that got to do with football? I hear you ask.

The answer is, of course – nothing; more's the pity. Now, I am well-aware, cricket is seen as the old British Empire's game. Those sturdy pith helmet wearing soldiers and District Commissioners – Featherstonehaugh, Mainwaring, Carruthers and so on took the game from the playing fields of Eton to places such as the West Indies, the Indian sub-continent, Australia, New Zealand and South Africa, and I remember watching a particularly hard-fought game in Vancouver's Stanley Park one afternoon.

Louise Martin CBE - the chief of the Commonwelath Games Federation

Rugby Union took firm root in Australia, New Zealand and South Africa, but, while the public school-educated middle classes took their games to all corners of the old Empire, football, the beautiful people's game of the British Isles didn't, at least in Victorian times, travel as well.

Rather, our football men took the game across Europe and South America, strange that. Now, however, with the Empire a Commonwealth, Commonwealth countries are making their name in football – so, why isn't our game inside the Commonwealth Games tent?

Rugby Sevens is there, as it now is in the Olympics. So, why not a football tournament at the Commonwealth Games, perhaps under the same Under-23 rules as at the Olympics?

I put this to Louise Martin CBE, the Scottish President of the Commonwealth Games Federation, during the lead-up to the 2014 Glasgow games, because, if ever there was an occasion to have football in the games, that was surely it. She told me, football had NEVER been a member of the CGF, a strange oversight, but, perhaps symptomatic of fitba's guid conceit o' itsel'.

Image the football final at a future Commonwealth Games – Scotland v England, what's not to like. And, it's not as if, there are not many potentially good sides who could compete.

Of the 71 nations and territories who will be competing in the 23 sports on the Gold Coast, no less than 17 are ranked in FIFA's top 100 countries, these nations, and their current rankings are:

England (16), Wales (20), Northern Ireland (2), Scotland (32), Australia (37), Jamaica (49), Cameroon (51), Nigeria (52), Ghana (54), South Africa (76), Zambia (77), Uganda (78), Trinidad & Tobago (79), Canada (90), Cyprus (92), Sierra Leone (98) and India (99). Surely a good competition could be had from among that lot.