Again, in Boredom: Lennon
It gives me no pleasure to once more address the Lennon issue.
I am at a loss to why anyone would wish to improve his standing among his tribe by assisting him to martyrdom. Let’s all give those wise fellows of the Celtic Board the opportunity to deal appropriately with their manager’s predilection to violence – in every aspect of his life.
Lets us give him not the oxygen of publicity, but instead wish him and his kind a long and happy retirement – preferably down the Shankhill. That way he won’t have to deal with a balanced, plural society. A communion of equals.
…. the small matter of football
I watched with pride and confidence the composure of Naismith, Weir, and Whiticker, as they guided the hand fate to beat a very good Dundee United side. For an ugly moment I felt Scottish Football wasn’t in the parlous state I frequently alluded. In fact a few moments of pride captured my sentiment as my eyes ran over the line of the old wall, adjacent to the technical area, I sheltered behind in those bleak mid-winters of yesteryear. I welled up – or was it the torrential rain? Most likely rain.
The ghosts of triumphs past danced across my inner eye as Willie Waddell tripped the wing, magicing the cross to the head of Kitchenbrand with which he’d demolish the posts (rather than score). Did they ever play together? Memory is such a fickle thing when recalling the romance of youth in football past. Was that Fergie that fell rather than scored? (we called him Fergie, or young Fergie back then, not Sir Alex or God). Read more
Walter Smith OBE Says GoodBye to the Beautiful Game & Rangers
The accomplishments of Walter Smith stand alongside any in the beautiful game. But despite an enviable CV that could fill a small compendium, two accomplishments, for me, stand out from the many, many others.
Firstly, there was that pinnacle of technical ability, the European Cup campaign of ‘92/93, when one more win added to the ten in the bag would have seen Walter stand to win the European Cup. No other Rangers’ manager can make such a claim. Not even the Dutch master nor the mighty Souness, although the latter was indeed far sighted in identifying the huge potential locked up in Walter’s grim adherence to duty, unimaginable fitness, something we don’t acknowledge nearly enough , and unmatched managerial apprenticeship, that included assisting Jim McLean scale the dizzy heights of Scottish and European football. Read more