Private Frazer Was Correct - Scottish Football Is Doomed

WITH ABSOLUTE confidence in RB Leipzig's ability to beat Celtic in Glasgow last night, I opted for 'coonsil telly' and the BBC Alba coverage of the crucial Scotland v Ireland Women's World Cup play-off.

Since I was watching an excellent Simon Reeve documentary on The Lake District on BBC 2 – which I commend to the House, I turned over to Alba just before the kick-off and must admit, Scotland's early play did not fill me with much confidence, as they allowed Ireland to seize the early initiative. Then, when Caroline Weir had that first half penalty saved, I recognised, this was the 2022 remake of an old movie: Disaster For Scotland. I've seen this one before, many times.

No harm to the girls, who will be more-gutted than even the most-experienced Tartan Army foot soldier, but, as I saw it, on the night, they didn't turn-up. The best Scotland performances are played out to the skirl of the pipes: the sound of Scotland The Brave, Black Bear, Heiland Laddie, The Barren Rocks Of Aden going through our heads. Last night was more Flooers O' The Forest paced.

I expect Scotland teams to pass the ball quickly and accurately along the ground, at pace. The way we slowly and painstakingly came out from the back, often taking seven or eight passes just to get to the centre circle – that's not how Scotland play at their best.

I remember seeing a film of the 1970 Brazilians, arguably the greatest team ever, in training. It was put to a Samba beat. Sure, they brought the ball out from the back, but, the rhythm and beat increased in intensity after they crossed half-way. We never saw that crispness, far-less Barcelona-style 'tiki-taka' from Scotland last night.

There was a lot of passing, but little passing and moving; nobody tried to pass through the Irish, indeed, I felt the normally excellent Ms Weir – so-often our play-maker, if she got the ball at all, got it maybe 30 yards too far from the Irish goal.

In any case, she was subjected to what was almost a basketball-style 'box-on-one' defensive structure, put together by Vera Pauw, who used her knowledge of the Scottish girls to good effect.

However, if four Irish girls are boxed around Weir – why weren't the Scottish girls they freed up, making good passes and better using the space they had?

The long throw-in has been around almost as long as football. I can remember Ian Hutchison setting-up Dave Webb's FA Cup-winning goal for Chelsea v Leeds United back in 1970. That's 52 years ago. More recently Stoke City's Rory Delap used to regularly cause chaos with his missiles from the touchlines. Last night Ireland's Megan Campbell wrought havoc in the Scotland box every time she went to the touchline to take a throw-in.

OK, fair play to Sophie Howard for knowing the Laws and ducking under one such throw-in to allow the ball to pass safely into the goal, but, as a former goalkeeper, I was screaming at Lee Gibson, that one, plus several other balls into the box, were crying out for a goalkeeper to go and collect them. Sadly, it appears Mrs Gibson is the latest in a long line of Scottish goalkeepers to have graduated from the Count Dracula School of Goalkeeping – they don't go near crosses.

Ach! I've been living through Disasters for Scotland all my life, this was just another one to add to a long list. I console myself with the knowledge, some day that thing that's for us – winning the World Cup for instance – will no go bye us. I just hope I am still around to see it.

AT LEAST, if you're a member of The Celtic Family, another embarrassing Champions League exit was partially-soothed by events across the city at Hampden.

By the way, I almost have some sympathy for whoever has possession of the biscuit tin these days. Imagine escorting the UEFA delegate to his seat in the Celtic Park Directors' Box, having assured him he is about to witness the greatest display of home fan dedication in all of football, then to look out and see that: “Against Hunger and the crown” banner, displayed by the Green Brigade, and wondering: “Fuck, how much is that one going to cost us?”

Back in the 1970s, my great football-writing hero Ian 'Dan' Archer, described Rangers as: “A permanent embarrassment and an occasional disgrace.” This quote allowed Celtic to claim the moral high ground, I think the Green Brigade are doing their very-best to take their club down beside their great rivals in living down to Dan's verdict.

BBC Shortbread's Sports Department, like its News Department, has for many years provided a home from home for reporters with no discernible talent. One of the best/worst of these was the seldom-remembered Colin Calder, a boring nyaff from Kilmarnock who swapped accountancy for giving poor accounts of football matches.

Dear Colin's Shortbread career ended shortly after, on the day David Murray bought Rangers, he asked 'The Great Waldo,' Hearts' owner Wallace Mercer, if: “Football clubs are now rich men's playthings?”

Waldo, to his great credit, nearly skewered Calder to the Tynecastle wall and, shortly thereafter, Calder's dulcet tones vanished from the BBC Shortbread airwaves.

Maybe the Irish billionaire, to whom Celtic is now something of a plaything should be considering if he is getting a good return on his investment. Celtic's collection of expensively-recruited non-Scots are clearly good enough for our wee diddy league, but, totally ill-equipped to compete at the top level in Europe.

Maybe Celtic should use some of that clout they appear to think they have, from being one of Europe's iconic football brands, to ensure, the team which finishes fourth in their group in the Champions League, drops into the Europa Conference League, so they can continue to make money out of European competition – even after they have been found out.

THE ABOVE noted, if Celtic have problems, they are minor compared to those facing Gio van Bronckhorst after Wednesday night's hammering at the hands of Liverpool.

I missed the worst of the Ibrox horror show, switching channels at half-time, after seeing how easily Liverpool had equalised, and the way too-many Rangers players were making it clear they didn't want the ball, I knew it would all fall apart after half-time. So, I switched to watching Jason Statham, (the greatest-ever Scottish goalkeeper – when he played 'The Monk' in Guy Ritchie's Mean Machine) flirting with Jo Lo in 'Parker.' At least, I was entertained.

I have been writing on here for years – the majority of this current Rangers squad are simply: NRC – Not Rangers Class. I accept, the days are gone when The Old Firm had the financial muscle to compete with the top English clubs and thereby retain their best talent. Nowadays, any Old Firm player who gets enough good right-ups from the less-than-impartial Glasgow press corps will quickly get a move to a mid-table English Premiership or Championship club, immediately doubling his salary, but probably without advancing his career very much.

The paradox is – there are only a handful of English clubs which have the caché of being 'A Big Club' in the Old Firm sense: Arsenal, Manchester City, Manchester United and Liverpool certainly meet that criteria, while you could make a case for Chelsea, Tottenham and maybe anywhere but on the pitch Newcastle United.

So, if the oft-mooted British League ever happens, the two Glasgow giants would probably be top half of the table clubs, in the mix for the title and able to compete at the sharp end in Europe.

However, I honestly cannot see such a league ever happening, so perhaps, if the NFL-style pan-European competition ever happens, we might see them in there – certainly in terms of following, core support and history, they have a chance of being considered.

Sir Robert Kelly is a controversial figure in the Celtic Family of today; in many of the wider family's view, tainted by his leadership of the 'Four Families' who allegedly held-back the club for many years.

Certainly times were different, but, Kelly was a veritable giant in football administration circles of his days. Perhaps the kindest view is that, by the time he was in-power at Celtic Park, between 1947 and his death in 1971, the 'Corinthian standards' to which Kelly held were already out-dated.

Kelly joined the Celtic board in 1932, becoming Chairman in 1947. While he was a board member, Celtic were consistently second-best to the Bill Struth-managed Rangers. It is generally agreed, the Celtic board of the time didn't manage the club well, and results back this up.

In Kelly's first decade as Chairman,, yes there were highs – a Scottish Cup win in 1951. plus victory in the one-of St Mungo's Cup competition; the Coronation Cup success in 1953; a League and Cup double in 1954, however, the club's average league finish in that decade was 6^th.

Then, Kelly had the idea of the club growing their own stars and introduced the Kelly Kids, coached by Jock Stein. This had little short-to-medium term effect; the average league position rose to fifth, but, while some future Celtic Greats, including the bulk of the Lisbon Lions were 'Kelly Kids' – the League Cup wins in 1957 and 1958 were scant reward before Stein's return brought a Scottish Cup win in 1965, the double in 1966 and the years of plenty which were to follow.

Sir Robert Kelly's vision and belief took a long time to bear fruit. I raise this in a section of this blog devoted to Rangers, merely to make this point. Gio van Bronckhorst came through the Feyenoord youth development system, which, if not as celebrated and feted as that at Ajax, has also produced an awful lot of top players, including GVB himself.

I just wonder if GVB could persuade the Rangers board to allow him the time to develop their own players in the way he grew-up at his first club. I wonder even more, would the Rangers' support stand for the possibility of a period of fallow seasons, while the kids matured.

Past experience tells me, Rangers would never countenance such a move – we will never see a Rangers version of the Kelly Kids, or their successors 'The Quality Street Gang' come out of Ibrox. They had the chance to do this when the club was demoted to Division Two, but didn't take it.

The mistakes made back then are now coming home to roost for the Blue half of Glasgow. They did what they have always done, tried to spend their way out of trouble and, again they have failed – the very proof of madness.

Losing a big game 1-7 is not a new experience for Rangers. I just wonder, however, how quickly they will learn from this one, and can they recover? Because, the Ibrox theme song on Wednesday was that old favourite: “The Cry Was No Defenders.”

THEN, as if to prove calamities come in triplicate, we had Hearts' abysmal display in Florence on Thursday night.

Michaelangelo's David has more cover than Craig Gordon got, as once again: “The Cry Was No Defenders.” At least, in Robbie Neilson's defence, he has such a lengthy injury list to cover, this one was always going to be a perilous journey for the Gorgie club.

Under the circumstances, a thumping for Hearts was always on the cards. But, I just wonder, and this one applies to all three Scottish clubs – why cannot our guys defend set pieces? Time and again we see our sides embarrassed by the opposition's movement and awareness at such set pieces.

I would suggest, defending set pieces is one skill a side can easily practice in training. Perhaps they do, but, if they cannot perform in real time, in games, then maybe the players should not be being paid to play in any case.

There was this mate of mine, who sadly toddled off to the Great Pavilion in the Sky earlier this year, who had played in the old First Division in England – what is now the Premiership. He was down at his old club for a celebratory reunion and speaking to one of the club coaches, who asked him: “What are you doing up there in Scotland? It used to be, you guys came down here and could dominate games, you demanded the ball, then used it. The Scots guys I see these days, they can run all day, but, they don't want the ball and, when they get it, they tend to trip over it – what has happened?”

That conversation was reported to me at least a decade ago. I think, since then, things have got worse. We really are in a bad way. And again I say, for as long as they can shove their snouts in the trough, the blazers along the sixth floor corridor at Hampden don't seem to give a monkey's or the failing state of Scotland's game.

Not for the first time, Private James Fraser, Walmington-on-Sea Home Guard, is proving to the Northern Nostradamus.

WE ARE ALL DOOMED!

 

Battle of Britain - I've Seen Fiercer Fights In Lewis's Sale

AFTER Tuesday night's 'Battle of Britain' between Liverpool and Rangers, I am more than ever in the Henry Ford camp. Because, when it comes to Battles of Britain, real aerial warfare or media-hyped sporting, “History is more or less bunk”, as old Henry maintained.

We are told that in the near-mythical Battle of Britain, in 1940, “The Few” - a bunch of boys in their teens and early twenties, straight out of England's public schools and universities – with the odd Grammar School product – Sergeant Pilots – turned back the might of Hitler's Luftwaffe.

The reality was, RAF Fighter Command had a bit of help from Americans, Australians, Canadians, Czechs, Free French, Indians and Poles, to name but a few other nations – but, don't let the facts get in the way of a good story.

So, let's look at the line-ups for that little dog fight at Anfield. Liverpool began the game with a mere two Englishmen on the park: goal-scorer Trent Alexander-Arnold and skipper Jordan Henderson.

Rangers also began with two Scots in their line-up, veteran Allan McGregor and teenager Leon King. To be fair, in skipper James Tavernier, Conor Goldson, Ben Davies, John Lundstram and Ryan Kent, they actually had more English players than the side nominally representing England. Indeed, even after Jurgen Klopp sent on James Milner and Harvey Elliott, Rangers still had the greater number of English players involved, while they managed to get another Scot involved, when Ryan Jack entered the fray in the 67^th minute. Rangers also had a Northern Irishman in their squad in veteran Steven Davis.

So whereas the 1940 BoB – the real one, was fought by a mix of conscripts and volunteers, last night's sporting version was very-much fought-out by a multi-national collection of mercenaries.

I have nothing against football as sporting art. The likes of the Royal Opera Company, or Scottish Opera or Scottish Ballet may well recruit overseas talent, as principal performers or musical directors, but, the bulk of the company – the chorus singers, the corps de ballet, the sword bearers, the orchestra members – they tend to be locals.

So, I can live with top-flight football as the muscular equivalent of grand opera or classical ballet – by all means pay big bucks to attract world-class talent, but, you need your locals as well.

The added element in football's Battles of Britain over the years of potential European clashes is always the Anglo-Scottish element. Scotland skipper Andy Robertson was injured, otherwise he'd have been in the Liverpool team, indeed, this thought just popped into my head, how's this for an All-Time Liverpool team: Tommy Lawrence; Stevie Nicol Andy Robertson; Graeme Souness, Ron Yeats, Alan Hansen; Kenny Dalglish, John Wark, Ian St John, Gary McAllister and Billy Liddell. The Liverpool Scottish have always been an elite regiment.

Ryan Kent spent 14 years in the Liverpool system, in their Academy before getting a playing contract. However, he didn't meet the standards Herr Klopp expected, so, he was let go, ending up at Rangers. He showed nothing on Tuesday night to possibly persuade Klopp his judgement of Kent as a player was faulty.

Well, my argument is, if Kent wasn't Liverpool-class, then he could not possibly be Rangers' Class. Rangers' left wingers are judged against a very-high level of predecessors – in the 20^th century: Alex Smith, Alan Morton, Johnny Hubbard, Davie Wilson, Bud Johnston, Davie Cooper. In more-modern times, Brian Laudrup – Kent is a long way from being mentioned in the same sentence as these genuine classy wingers.

Rangers were totally out-classed on Tuesday night. It was Men beating Boys, but for Allan McGregor, it might have been an embarrassing thumping. And this, let's not forget, against a Liverpool team playing some way short of their best. Rangers dodged a bullet there, however, it is difficult to see them surviving into the knock-out stages of this season's European Cup – and highly-unlikely to even earn the consolation prize of a run at the Europa League.

THEN, on Wednesday night it was Celtic's turn. Like Rangers, struggling at the foot of their group, but, with the consolation of one point from their draw against Shakhtar Donetsk. They had high hopes against RB Leipzig, but, like their pals across the city, they would end up disappointed.

Now, straight away let's admit, fourth in the Bundesliga last season and currently lying 11^th in that league table, Leipzig don't have the history, prestige or European experience of the likes of Liverpool, Napoli, Real Madrid, Ajax, or even Donesk. At the very least, Celtic should have been aiming to get a draw in Germany.

They didn't get the showing-up Rangers had to endure the previous night, but, they still finished a poor second over the game. Once again, the Old Firm apologists in the Scottish media were reduced to making excuses and trying to put a brave face on another embarrassing night for one of our big two.

At least, Celtic managed to, thanks in part to a lengthy injury list, get three Scots into their starting line-up, one more than Rangers managed. But, the sad fact is, the teams representing one of the greatest football cities in the world are Scottish only in their name – even if that claim can be reasonably made about only one of them.

IF, as they perhaps should be, The Old Firm were playing in a North American-style, pan-European competition, only playing against clubs of similar size from across the continent and in a competition where the financial playing field is as level as it can be – then I could tolerate them putting-out teams almost free of Scottish players.

But, until this happens, and for as long as their principal area of playing is in the domestic Scottish League, then they ought to be putting-out sides in which the majority of the players are Scottish. The quicker the SFA cracks the whip and imposes Chick Young's “eight diddies rule”, whereby Scottish sides have to have eight Scots on the park at all times, the better for the game in the country which gave it form.

Buying-in and fielding, second and third rate non-Scots is not the way either of our two biggest clubs will ever get back to the top table of European football. And it is certainly not the way our other clubs will get away from being also-rans in the minor European competitions.

We need root and branch reform of Scottish football, but, I don't see the stumble bums along Hampden's sixth floor corridor ever admitting this, far less implementing the necessary changes, or even having the backbone to stand-up to the Big Two to make it happen.

 

If You Think English Politics Is Bad - It's Still Better Than Their Football Team

LONG LONG time ago (that reads like the start of a song) I opted out of what the broadcasting big bosses appear to believe should be compulsory television viewing of England games. Between myopic commentators, colour co-commentators who were even worse and the fact, if I wanted to watch pish fitba I could get off my fat erse and go and watch Scotland. I opted out – without suffering from this decision.

On Monday night, morbid fascination dragged me back, to watch the Channel 4 coverage from Wembley of England v Germany. Now morbid fascination is a peculiarly Scottish state of mind. The great George Macdonald Fraser, biographer of Brigadier General Sir Harry Paget Flashman VC KCB KCIE and Private J McAuslan, best summed it up when he wrote that: “The Jocks followed their Anglo-Scottish officers with a sort of morbid fascination as to what sort of bother they might lead them into.”

Any way, on Monday, I switched-on C4 with just that sort of interest, perhaps thinking: “Is Gareth Southgate as useless as his critics are making out?” There was also the motivation: “If the Germans are any good, and England as bad as they are being made out, this might be fun.”

Sadly, Herr Flick of the DFB and Die Mannschaft 2022 vintage, are some way short of previous Tutonic visitors to Wembley old or new. Yes, Monday's team was minus one or two of the big names, such as Thomas Mϋller or Manuel Neuer, but I still sort of hoped they could do the sort of job on a shite England team I recall a Gϋnter Netzer-inspired West Germany doing back in 1972.

Just how many might Gerd Müller have scored, running at Harry Maguire, onto passes from Netzer and Beckenbauer? If you're English, you shudder to consider this hypothesis.

I gave up after half an hour, this was rubbish, two bad teams playing bad football, while dressed in terrible kits. Mind you, the pattern was set before the kick-off. I realise, with the likes of Ian Wright and just about any BBC Shortbread fitba talking head you might care to mention, the bar is currently set very low for football comment. OK, the likes of 'Wrightie' have made it compulsory to have a pair of big tits on-screen, but, some of women presenters and commentators we have to endure these days. Jings, crivvens, help ma Boab.

With four daughters, I am all in favour of promoting women, but, please, let's have women with talent – the likes of Mrs Logan, Claire Balding and oor ain Lee Mackenzie and Hazel Irvine. The sub-editor in me screamed inwardly when one of the Wembley Women introduced, and I quote: “Two of our Lioness heroes.”

No dear, “Lioness Heroines” I would have let you away with, but, as we all know, nobody mangles the English language quite like the English.

Any way, it went downhill after that. The passing, from both sides, was shockingly poor, there was a total lack of craft, imagination or impetus. I changed channels.

Apparently, or so I have been told by one or two Facebook friends who stuck with it, the game improved, to end up a 3-3 draw. However, the same friends have assured me, neither team looks likely to be in contention for the World Cup. That I don't believe – we already know England will go to Qatar and flatter to deceive, but, you never, ever, write-off the Germans at a World Cup.

Any way, after turning over, I watched most of a Rob Bell documentary on Titanic then the entertaining Guy Ritchie film Snatch. Both the very-under-rated Mr Bell and the ensemble cast: Jason Statham, Stephen Graham, Brad Pitt and Vinny Jones, to name but a few, were more-entertaining than England – and Vinny Jones is still, I suspect, a better central defender than Harry Maguire.

One interesting factoid to emerge from Monday night's coverage – seemingly Gareth Southgate has managed England in 76 games, and only lost 13 matches. Yet many England fans think he's rubbish. That's the biggest problem with being England manager – England expects far too much.

Your average England fan has fallen, hook, line and sinker, for their media's constant propaganda about their Premier League being “The best league in the world,” which it isn't, and in any case, if any neutral commentator was to sit down and pick a best team from the players in that league – there wouldn't be a single English player in that XI. But, you could never get an England fan to believe that.

For instance, yesterday I happened across a Paddy Power advert, which had a Gaelic Football commentator saying basically: “If a game is shite, I'll say it's shite.” He'd never get a broadcasting gig this side of the water with that approach.

Better I feel to be Scottish, and be repeatedly killed by our hopes for our football team being crushed, than to be English and see your great expectations repeatedly thwarted.

I will not be watching the Scotland v Ukraine match tonight. I will be at the local Odeon, getting a dose of culture, with the viewing of a performance of Madame Butterfly from the Royal Opera.

I accepted this engagement, meal before hand as a birthday treat for one of the ladies in the party, before I realised there was a fixture clash. Any way, Scotland tend to play better away from home when I'm not spectating, so I will be watching Puccini's tale with half a mind that things could well go better for Cio-Cio-San and Lieutenant Pinkerton than for Stevie Clarke and Captain McGinn.

Mind you, the way the Scotland squad is being hit by this virus, we could be down to the last XI standing and produce a narrow victory – after all, it's usually Scotland's way to find the most-difficult path to glory in any competition.

 

Scottish Goalkeepers, A Perennial Problem For The Blazers

IT SAYS a lot for Craig Gordon, that in the build-up to Saturday night's great win over Ireland, he had to temporarily leave the Scotland camp to be with his partner, Summer, as she was safely delivered off the couple's son Axel. Gordon then rejoined the squad and, on the occasion of his 72^nd cap, produced a stunning late save to keep us ahead and on the road to victory.

 For my money, big Craig is up there on the top shelf of Scotland keepers, he might even be the best we've ever had, but, I wonder – being in a deliver room overnight before a game is maybe not the best preparation for a crucial international. Maybe, had he not retired from international football, David Marshall might have got the call for the Irish game, to enable Craig to spend more time with Axel and his Mum. However, for such an important game, and with no other capped 'keeper in the squad, well, Craig I suppose had to face the Irish.

With the introduction of the UEFA Nations League, there are fewer games in which, without the pressure of group points to be protected, managers such as Stevie Clarke can introduce and try-out newcomers.

The back-up 'keepers to Gordon are:

• Jon McLaughlin (Rangers) – aged 35, two caps

• Robbie McCrorie (Rangers) – aged 24, uncapped

• Liam Kelly (Motherwell) – aged 26, uncapped

McLaughlin and McCrorie are currently playing second and third-choice to the 40 year old Allan McGregor at their club, while Kelly had to leave Rangers to get any first-team game time at all.

The great Jimmy Cowan's Scotland career was over, after 25 caps, at aged 26. Wembley Wizard Jack Harkness was another to have won all 12 of his Scotland caps by aged 26. Bobby Ferguson, the most-expensive goalkeeper in the world when he left Kilmarnock for West Ham, won his seven Scottish caps between the ages of 21 and 22. This shows, Scotland has never been too-sure about our goalkeepers. We've perhaps been lucky in having McGregor, Gordon and Marshall all playing at the same time, but, what happens if Gordon is hit by a Lothian Transport bus? Isn't it time we blooded a potential young successor?

I accept it would be difficult to slot it into an already crowded football calendar, but, I have long had an idea which I think would help our international team. Why not bring back the Home Internationals?

Full-blown internationals would, I think, be out of the question, but, surely, given television's seemingly insatiable appetite for football, we could sell the notion of a revised Home Championship? What I would do is revise the eligibility criteria – perhaps go down the Olympic Games route, and insist the squads had to primarily be made-up of Under-23 players.

Finding a slot or slots might be difficult, but, I don't see this as an insurmountable problem and it might be worth-while taking the games to smaller stadia, away from Hampden, Wembley etc.

I dare say, the English could, potentially, think themselves above such nonsense, in which case, I am sure Ireland would like to come in – after all, the short-lived Vauxhall Tournament, which was a Celtic nations only concept, looked promising before being prematurely killed-off.

Of course, with England and Wales being relegated out of Nations League A, if we lose to Ukraine tomorrow night, then there will be four British Isles nations, Us, England, Ireland and Wales in League B – UEFA might well be tempted to lump them together in one group, which would certainly be popular with the TV companies and the fans. I doubt it would be so popular with the Wembley-based “blazers,” particularly if England couldn't win that group.

LET'S talk real fitba for a change, and by real fitba I mean the Scottish Junior variety, where men are men and only poofs wear shin guards. The third round draw for the Scottish Junior Cup was made last week, and one tie stands out abune them awe – Auchinleck Talbot v Darvel, cup holders v West of Scotland League Champions.

This one should attract another bumper attendance to Beechwood Park, because Talbot, as ever, have been slow out of the blocks this season and, with four league games played, they lie eighth in the table, with seven points, having already lost once and drawn once.

Darvel lie fourth, with nine points from three wins and one loss. Last season Darvel showed they maybe had the measure of the 'Bot, certainly in the league, however, when silverware, and in particular that magnificent Scottish Cup, is up for grabs, the Beechwood Boys are a totally different animal.

Added spice comes from last week's transfer of striker Jamie Glasgow, from Talbot to Darvel. Talk about pouring more fuel on the flames.

Still in the toxic waters of the Juniors in God's County. I spotted over the weekend a Facebook posting concerning “The Winton Warriors,” a group of Ardrossan Winton Rovers Ultras, on an away day to Saltcoats Victoria's Campbell Park.

It's good to see the weans involved, for this lot all looked to be about 11 or 12. This reminds me of a previous bunch of teenage fans whose youthful enthusiasm was a bit over-reaching.

It was back in the late 1980s and Dalry Thistle put together a late season run of form, which took them to an Ayrshire Cup Final, against Glenafton Athletic, at Meadow Park. Their cup run had attracted a bunch of youthful followers more-often seen at Ibrox, who spent much of the first half, up in the Meadow Park stand, goading the Glen supporters to: “send your casuals over here.”

In the pie queue at half time, a small group of the Darvel lads were approached by 'Big Alex' a six-foot-plus, 20-stone, bearded fan, resplendent in Glenafton scarf. He came straight to the point.

“Listen boays, awe oor casuals are aboot 35 and got made redundant frae the pits by Maggie Thatcher; so, they're no the maist sociable. Maybe better if ye didnae goad them oany mair.”

The Darvel Casuals were much quieter in the second half, as they watched the Glen do the business to take the cup.

 

Get Promoted And Miss England - Or, Stay Down And Maybe Be In The Same Group As Them - Decisions, Decisions

THIS UEFA Nations League remains a work in progress. It was introduced to do away with meaningless “friendlies” or “challenge matches” and as a means of giving the governing body's match co-efficient greater teeth. Even after a couple of runs-through, the kinks are still being ironed-out, but, I like the idea.

I don't think there is the same liking for the Nations League south of the Solway, where a truth of football which has been obvious to all but our Sassenach neighbours since 1950 – England are by and large shite when it comes to competitive internationals – has been given greater exposure.

You can never say never, but, should Wales beat Poland by two clear goals and thus retain their place in League A, and Scotland do the business to be promoted into that League, then both Celtic nations would be ranked above the self-styled 'Football Master Race.' Now that would be an unpleasant reality for the Nigels to try to not talk about.

Any way, wouldn't it be ironic if we did get ourselves into the top league, only to find England – the team we most-wanted to face, had been relegated? Such a scenario would also be typically Scottish.

WE DIDN'T have the Nations League when I was a boy. But, we did have the Home Internationals, the annual meeting of England, Northern Ireland, Scotland and Wales. From 1884 until 1968 the Home Internationals were played during the season. For Scotland this meant we faced Northern Ireland and Wales in October and November – the away game on a Saturday afternoon, the home one on a Wednesday night. The annual meeting with England was always on a Saturday afternoon in April.

The Saturday away games in Belfast, Cardiff/Wrexham/Swansea or London meant that a nearly full programme of league games would be played up here, to suit the non-travelling members of the Tartan Army.

Towards the end of this schedule, however, a rule was introduced which meant, if a Scottish club side was shorn of (I believe) three players due to international duty, then they were allowed to call-off their Saturday fixture.

Then, in 1969 the Home Internationals were moved to the end of the season and had the football scene all to themselves. This, however, only hastened the tournament's demise as England (and to a lesser degree Scotland) thought they were better than Northern Ireland and Wales and wanted to go off and play more-glamorous friendlies against continental opponents.

I always, in view of this “we're better than you” view from Us and the English, felt there was delicious irony in Northern Ireland winning the final running of the Home Internationals in 1984, with Wales in second spot, England third and Scotland fourth. This meant, the magnificent Jubilee Trophy, (pictured below), awarded to the winners every tournament since 1935, has, for the past 38 years been in the possession of the Northern Ireland Football Association.

This really is a wonderful example of the silversmith's art and I would love to see it brought back into regular competitive use.

However, that's a side issue to the main thrust of this post. We played the Republic of Ireland on Saturday night, kick-off 7.45pm. However, the Scottish fixture list was all but cleared for this game – the only senior domestic game to go on was the League Two clash of Forfar Athletic v Stirling Albion.

Now, even under the old 'three players called-up and you can postpone a domestic game' rules, only Celtic, who have Callum McGregor, Greg Taylor and Anthony Ralston in the Scotland squad would have been affected. So, what was to stop the SPFL from promoting a full programme of league matches on Saturday?

Only a little over 52,000 fans can get into a full-house Hampden, but, the rest of us had to have a Saturday off, and be inconvenienced by midweek re-scheduling of games, with the knock-on effect of smaller attendances.

I recall, when researching an article on the 1928 Wembley Wizards, reading that the biggest cheer of the day at Ibrox, where Rangers (minus Alan Morton) were beating Clyde 3-1, came when the half-time score from Wembley (Scotland leading 2-0) was announced over the tannoy.

While the second Wembley Wizards were putting England to the sword, on 15 April, 1967, back up the road, two First Division games were played – Aberdeen beating Stirling Albion 1-0 and Hibs crushing Ayr United 4-1. There were also five Second Division games played, while both halves of the Old Firm – who between them provided six of the victorious XI in London, had their reserve sides in Saturday action. In England, while the big game went ahead at Wembley, five First Division games were played, while there was a full programme in the three lower English Leagues.

That, however, was before football sold-out totally to the great God, Television. Why cannot we go back to fitba at 3pm on a Saturday? Mind you, that said, maybe with the ridiculous surge in energy prices, this season we will be going back to 1.30pm and 2pm starts, to avoid the use of expensive floodlighting systems.

As for Saturday night's Hampden match; this was yet another example of how, when two sides, even international ones, from the British Isles lock horns – the players revert to type.

With the introduction of continental coaches and players, in club games, the home-grown players have to adapt to the more-technical European style of play: building slowly from the back, passing across the field and often backwards, seeking to create space.

Remove the European influence, bring British Isles bragging rights into the equation and it's a case of: “right, let's get tore-intae this lot.” There were one or two outbreaks of “handbags at ten paces” on Saturday night; more snarling and posturing than usual and a good old-fashioned British cup tie ensued.

I thought the Republic boys did a good job in unsettling our guys, who took a time to get into the game, but, in the end, quality told and I thought we deserved our win.

In these types of games, we need a Scott Brown type in midfield to get us going and I thought, on Saturday, Scott McTominay stepped-up to the plate in this role. He has, I think, cemented his place as a Tartan Army favourite over the last two games.

Now we move on to Poland and a winner takes all clash with Ukraine. They will be out for revenge after the last meeting and gthe problem for Stevie Clarke will be – does he stick or twist – try to take the sting out of the game and take the draw which will win us promotion, or, go for another win to go up to the A League in style. I hope he goes with option two.

 

Evil Genius 1 - The Scottish Football Establishment 0

SAY WHAT you like about the Green Brigade, and I have to admit, following their demonstration at St Mirren's park on Saturday, these bhoys are not at the top of anyone's popularity list, I have a sneaking admiration for them. I would suggest, somewhere within that loose organisation there are some clever guys, who, as one Editorial Director once said of me: “If you'd been caught and tamed early enough, you'd have been some operator.”

I may be a Scottish Nationalist – albeit one who has nae time for the hooks, crooks and comic singers currently masquerading as the leadership of the SNP, but, I am fairly ambivalent about the Royal Family and whether or not we should retain the Monarchy once we have extricated ourselves from England's vice-like grip. I am ambivalent, in a slightly-different manner about Celtic FC and those who follow them – I don't give a fuck who beats them.

But, I will, if necessary, man the barricades to defend the Green Brigade's right to protest as they see fit. We cannot have a list of subjects one is allowed to protest against, with everything else off-limits. For the simple reason, when you go down that road, you get to the point where the state of mind is: “quis custodiet ipsos custodes”. If you were not fortunate enough to obtain a classical education at a Scottish Senior Secondary school, back when the Scottish education system was the envy of the world, that translates as: “Who guards the guards?”

Whoever came up with that: “If you hate the Royal Family – clap your hands” banner was touched by genius.

I can just imagine the conversation, in the back bar of The Sean South Arms, Croy: “Right bhoys – they're gonnae hiv a minute's silence for Queenie. But, they ken fine ye cannae hae that at a Sellick gemme, since we're no gonnae shut up fur that long. Minute's applause then, so, here's whit we dae.” As I said – evil genius at work and the fitba establishment embarrassed again.

One wonders what level of retribution and response is being planned across the city, by the followers of the club we must now refer to as: “The King's XI.” Scottish football would be healthier if the followers of our top two sides spent more time asking: “Why are we shite in Europe?” and less time re-fighting 17^th century Irish battles and the lasting effects of the potato famine.

Mind you, while fitba plays its part, much of the blight of sectarianism in Scotland is caused in the home and in life in general – after all, at his Accession Council, our new King was required to reassert his support for the primacy of the Protestant religion. Tough luck if you are a loyal, Roman Catholic, Jew, Hindu, Mormon, Muslim, Buddhist, Humanist, Jedi Knight, follower of the Church of Elvis, or whatever other religion one professes in today's multi-cultural, multi-faith Scotland.

I'm with the new King, by the way, in his oft-professed desire to be: “Defender of Faiths” rather than one particular faith. And god luck to His Majesty in getting that wee change to the Coronation Oath past the vested interests of the various Protestant Churches, between now and the day the Archbishop of Caterbury slaps the bejewelled, velvet and ermine bunnet on his head, as he sits in yon big wooden chair, above the sink plug to Scone Abbey.

The Green Brigade's wee demonstration was a handy diversion for the mighty intellects of the SWFA (that's the Scottish Football Writers Association). They could have a go at the GB and thus have fewer words to expend on just how this expensively-acquired Celtic team couldn't beat a team, put together at much-less cost and supposedly lucky to be allowed on the same pitch as Celtic.

Some reasoned that Celtic had lost because they wore a change strip – an excuse first coined by Sir Alex Ferguson, back in season 1995-96, when he consigned Manchester United's grey change strip to the bin at half-time in an away defeat to Southampton. I'm still wondering why – other than taking the chance to show case a strip they want their fans to buy, Celtic chose to ditch the hoops for a visit to Paisley. I mean, green and white hoops v black and white vertical stripes – where's the colour clash? More-importantly: why?

I've long thought, a lot of our Scottish clubs are beaten before they start against the Old Firm. All week leading-up to the game, they get it into their heads: “Well, we're playing 14 men on Saturday – the officials will give them every break going, and they're better than us, any way.”

Pish, I firmly believe if their managers could convince their players to go out there and have a go at the Old Firm, particularly at home, the “diddy” teams would produce better results against the Bigot Brothers. The lessons are there to be seen when they are in Europe, facing teams – not always “European Giants” - who have a go at them.

But, maybe as, in politics, so-many of us Scots are programmed to believe we are inferior, in football the same lie has got to our other teams.

I CERTAINLY hope we see an old-fashioned Scotland performance when we take on Ukraine at Hampden tonight. Thanks to Mad Vlad and his daft invasion, the Ukrainians are suddenly everyone's second-favourite international team.

Of course we must have sympathy for that blighted nation, but, we must remember, while guys they went to school with and grew-up with are putting their lives on the line for their country, the Ukrainians we face are out of that front line and kicking a ball about for the greater glory of their nation.

They are just another team, wanting to beat us and there to, in turn be beaten by us. A fair few of them didn't look that special against what is, by Celtic standards a fairly-average Hoops team in Europe last week.

This Scotland team is better than Celtic, so, I suggest we roll up our sleeves and get stuck-in. We are, admittedly, minus one or two of our main men, but, I still feel, there is enough class in whichever XI Stevie Clarke sends out, to get the job done and post a victory – if our heads are right.

 

Since We Cannot Have A Football Version of Brexit, Maybe It's Time We Learned To Play There.

WHEN IT comes to re-writing history, nobody does it like Celtic and their fans. It was ever thus, and they have been at it again since the final whistle blew in Warsaw on Wednesday night, with the score line Shakhtar Donetsk 1 – Celtic 1.

Let's look at the facts – as much as we can measure them:

• Shakhtar are currently ranked 22 in Europe

• Celtic are currently ranked 51

• The Scottish League is currently ranked 9 in Europe

• The Ukrainian League is currently ranked 12 in Europe

• On the night, Celtic had the greater share of possession

• On the night, Celtic had more shots at goal

• Shakhtar had to give-up home advantage and play in a foreign country because of the continuing war in Ukraine

• Yet Celtic could not push home these advantages to win.

Shakhtar have seen most of their foreign players leave because of the war, which is being mainly fought around their home part of Ukraine. Their squad last night was mainly made-up of young Ukrainian players, while Celtic's squad contained just two Scots in the starting line-up, with a third coming off the bench and four others sitting, unused on that bench.

The travelling press corps from Scotland wrote of Celtic's “frustration” at not winning a match they dominated. But, this is nothing new – Celtic haven't won a Champions League game since 2017; they have posted just one clean sheet in 34 Champions League games and while their shots-to-goals conversion rate in the Scottish League is 20% (a goal from every five shots), in the Champions League it is 4% (a goal from every 25 shots).

Celtic have long been “a selling club.” Back in the day, under Sir Robert Kelly and the “Four Families” they utilised their volunteer army of Celtic-daft teachers and janitors, who effectively ran schools football in Scotland to ensure the very-best mainly Roman Catholic youngsters in West-Central Scotland arrived at Celtic Park. The best of these became 'The Kelly Kids' or 'The Quality Street Gang.'

But, a good number of these young players moved-on, sooner or later. For instance, here's a team of young Celts who won Scotland Under-23 or Under-21 caps, or even full caps, who were moved-on to English clubs: Dick Beattie; David Hay, Derek Whyte; Paddy Crerand, John Colrain, Tommy Docherty; Bobby Collins, Kenny Dalglish, Charlie Nicholas, Lou Macari, Bertie Auld. That's just 11 names off the top of my head, of whom, only Docherty didn't win a Scotland age group cap, because they didn't have such honours when he was with Celtic.

I would venture, of those 11 players, only Crerand, Collins, Dalglish, Nicholas and Macari joined a team of equal standing to Celtic. The Chelsea Hay joined was a long way from today's Chelsea.

So, a player leaving Celtic (or for that matter Rangers) years ago, was taking a step down. In recent years, Celtic has still been selling-on players to clubs with nothing like their history or prestige – they just happen to play in the mega-rich English Premier League. Where once the sold-on player was replaced by a young Scot, today, any player who leaves Celtic is usually replaced by a bought-in non-Scot.

For as long as Celtic are winning domestic honours, today's members of the Celtic Family will be happy, but, I question the long-term effects of importing badge-kissing mercenaries on the wider Celtic brand.

Call me an old romantic, if you like, but, I feel a Stein-managed Celtic side, full of fans who got to live the dream and wear the Hoops, would have emerged with a win in Warsaw on Wednesday night.

I COULD NOT, however, with any confidence, suggest any Rangers team, of whatever vintage I have seen in the past 60 years, could have beaten that Napoli team at Ibrox, later on Wednesday night.

For as long as Rangers had 11 men on the park, they had a chance of salvaging a draw. Once James Sands got his marching orders, it was a case of when, not if, Napoli scored.

I had to laugh at the Rangers fans raging at the Spanish referee, for some of his decisions. I thought he got all the big ones correct, but, like all referees, he's human. He probably went onto the park with the preconception: “Top of the Italian League versus a Scottish team – Napoli will be the better team,” and officiated accordingly.

The Rangers fans don't complain when domestic Scottish referees take the field with the view: “Rangers versus a diddy team – Rangers win today.” In Europe, Rangers (and Celtic) are all too often 'the diddy team.' Learn to live with it, the rest of us in Scotland have.

For much of the game, it was men against boys – and Rangers were the boys. They will make it hard for The Reds in the upcoming double header against Liverpool, but, on evidence this far, Rangers will do well to avoid finishing bottom of their Champions League group, and I cannot see them avoiding that fate.

There are too many players in the present team who are NRC – Not Rangers Class, and while they will still be in the top two in Scotland, these players are simply not good enough for Europe.

My Rangers-supporting friends keep raving about this Ryan Kent. I measure Rangers' left-wingers against Davie Wilson, Bud Johnston, Davie Cooper, my father measured them against Alan Morton.

I cannot bring myself to mention Master Kent in the same sentence as these prior greats. And don't get me started on Alfredo Morelos. There was a Scottish football joke of the 1980s: “What's the difference between Paul McStay and a second-hand Lada? Somebody will make an offer for a second-hand Lada.” These days, you can substitute Morelos for McStay – with his attitude, nobody will make a serious offer for him, any club doing so would simply be buying trouble. And, in case anybody doubts me – Paul McStay was a player.

Any way, on Saturday, Rangers are at home to Dundee United, while Celtic visit St Mirren on Sunday. Three points each and a few goals scored – all will be well with the world, until the reality of Europe intervenes again.

MEANWHILE, I was delighted that Hearts won 2-0 in Riga, to get their Europa Conference League campaign up and running.

They lived dangerously for a spell, when Craig Gordon, for me, Scotland's best-ever goalkeeper, kept them in the game. However, Robbie Neilson really has to do something with his defence, it was panic stations at times.

Let's hope, having posted a win, the Jambos can kick-on and contribute to keeping Scotland's UEFA Co-efficient meaningful.