Foolishly I went on the free bus to the outlet centre joining the pig ignorant throng. Pushing, walking into people, talking loudly on phones and shops not stocking anything worth buying. Coming back I ventured into Tesco where ten thousand Buffalo were wandering around desperate for more of the stuff they have over abused already this week. I got my milk and bread, chatted to the young checkout assistant, and ran home for the football.
Today being a derby day I threw £7:99 on a SKY Day Pass so I could watch the Glasgow and Edinburgh ones. How sad that Rangers looked like a football team in the first one, I rather hoped they would lose heavily, sell their better players in the January Transfer window, and go bust! They might survive now.
I rush this as I await the Edinburgh derby, a game featuring two sides missing good players and therefore impossible to predict. I suspect however that the Heart of Midlothian will win again, we usually do...
Blethering this morning with two women, I was hoping to get a word in, the subject of counselling people came up. One who was employed in similar business said that the biggest problem today was people being unwilling to 'take responsibility.' I had to agree that she might be right here and wondered why?
Society, that means 'us' has brought us to this level from government legislation, teachers fancy ideology (often unwritten and confused) and parents who themselves refuse much responsibility and await others to take the blame or sort things out for them.
This is not new, Cain slew Abel and when asked about this did not take responsibility, he would have avoided such if he could but it was brought to his attention anyway. People, including ourselves, are no different today. However the social conventions that controlled us have been eroded by liberalism at every level. The school pupil, sorry 'student' gets off with wrong doing with no punishment, the punishment for crime does not fit, politicians at all levels lie to us (see 'Brexit') and retain their positions, and the media leads us in celebrating badly behaved broken celebs and simplifying life into 'good and bad' with no moral base in between.
The result appears to be an attitude in many that when things go wrong it is not their fault it must be someone else who is responsible. There is great difficulty in taking responsibility upon ourselves.
Not everyone is thus imbued but there is that streak crying out throughout society and it continues to erode individuals life, sometimes with sad results.
I of course am completely innocent.
The great thing this weekend is that the Heart of Midlothian remain top of the league. Not only but also Hibernian, the wee team from Leith find themselves in second place and the even wee'er team Livingstone are now third in the table. The Glasgow media still speak of the blue and green bigots of course but the reality is their teams are guff and we know it.
Things might change of course, their referees, SFA and media will do all they can to overthrow us but we can defeat them once again.
An emotionally tiring weekend.
Saturday I sat through three full games, from the 'National League' play-off to the Dundee v Partick Thistle relegation battle. Thistle now enter the play off on Thursday. Today I was forced to watch Hibernian playing Rangers. Now this is a time when I want Hibs to win! Anyone playing the old firm has my vote and today the Hibs numtys went in to a 3 nil lead within 20 minutes. Fantastic to watch the Huns fans staring into space. Naturally Hibs threw it away and not long into the second half they were 5-3 down! However perseverance brought them level to a 5-5 result in the end. With Aberdeen defeating Celtic (who lay down I suspect) this means Aberdeen finish second for the fourth year in a row and Rangers sadly finish third. Hibs are fourth and we are happy to remain in sixth place, the season has been hard for a variety of reasons exemplified by the fact that in our last game today we had only four senior players fit so the youngsters, eleven teenagers, were in the squad and fiver were on the pitch today, two for their debuts. The loss of a single goal was satisfactory in the situation and we now plan for next season. Of course I also watched the Dumbarton v Alloa play-off tonight, the fifth this weekend, and am happy to see Alloa rise to the second tier of Scottish football.
Just a handful of proper games left, then a cup final or two, and the season is over. I must say that watching European giants play is far less satisfying than watching lesser clubs fight for promotion or to avoid relegation. Such games have more desire and while the talent is less the entertainment is much more. Real Madrid could learn a lot from these boys.
I am worn out now...
Apparently World War Three broke out last night. A handful of spare cruise missiles fell on parts of Syria and Russia has now declared a 'Red alert.' I suppose it would be a 'Red alert' wouldn't it?
In fact, according to a BBC man whom I usually don't believe, this was stage managed for the people. The Syrians, well the Russians, would have been told where the missiles would land, no Russian, almost no Syrian would be hurt, little real damage would occur and, as the last time the west responded to chemical weapons being used, nothing changes.
However the media will shout and scream with almost as much ignorance as I, political lightweights will appear spouting the party line and most folks will go out and enjoy the sunshine, such as it is.
I was impressed by the appearance of our local MP spouting the Boris Johnson line, he is one of Boris's lackeys and now has a good job out of this, he was telling us we do not require a vote in the house by MPs who have no information on the circumstances of the situation. That means MPs are ignorant or info is withheld, I don't know which. Either way the MP ought to spend more time answering constituents letters, which he does not, and less time brown nosing for promotion.
With the Heart of Midlothian taking the weekend off as it is cup semi final weekend I have spent time listening to the end of season promotion and relegation battles featuring teams with delightful names from out of the way places. The image offered by football team names is intriguing, 'Queen of the South' is a famous name even amongst people who have no idea they come from Dumfries in the Scottish borders. 'Partick Thistle' are much better known even though they do not play in the 'Partick' area of Glasgow. At the end of the 19th century they moved between two or three grounds, as most clubs did, until they received help from Rangers football club to move to the new district in the north of Glasgow called Maryhill. This allowed Thistle a good crowd in the new area and Rangers then obtained all the fans in the shipbuilding parts of Govan. This also gave them the 'Ulster loyalist' approach as pretend protestants which in itself meant little until Celtic arrived in Glasgows east end and made a play for the Catholics in that area. Both clubs have used sectarian bull to gather crowds ever since. But you ask why is the name pronounced 'Celtic' with a soft 'C' and not 'Keltic' with a hard 'C,' nobody appears to know but stupidity might play a part.
Based in Paisley 'St Mirren,' pronounced and spelt 'St Mirn' by many, are named after a man called Mirin who founded a church where Paisley Abbey now stands, he became the Paisley patron saint. On the other hand 'St Johnstone' did not get their name from a saint directly but from the church in Perth where they originated. This was dedicated to St John the Baptist and Perth was often referred to as 'St John's Toun' and the name came from this.
Raith Rovers come from Kirkcaldy on the Fife coast but there was no town called Raith in times past. Instead there was an area stretching across a few miles across Fife reaching to the west of Kirkcaldy area. A Battle of Raith took place here in the late 6th century and a Raith Tower and Raith House sit close by. 'Raith' itself comes from old Scots and means a 'fort.' A common tongue in cheek comment is to refer to 'Dancing in the streets of Raith' as this was said to have been announced by a sports commentator years ago, he might have been using sarcasm.
'Brechin City' come from Brechin a small town in Angus with a population of under ten thousand. However having a cathedral, once a Roman Catholic and now belonging to the 'Episcopal Church' allows the townsfolks to make use of the word 'City' although this has now no official use.
The Heart of Midlothian I must point out were not named after a book by Walter Scott!
One day I will be fit! Since the turn of the year every time I attempt some form of exercise something, the bug, funeral, sloth, gets in the way, however this time I will get on with it and improve life. For a start I have actually cleaned the fridge, as I said, and the oven is next, maybe, and as the weather appears to be improving I must get out and about making use of the bus pass and rail card. I need to see the sea again, I forget what it looks like.
Of course last week was a washout but as the kids were on holiday it was not a time for wandering abroad. From Monday, or Tuesday most of them will be locked up inside where they ought to be allowing decent people to prowl the land upsetting other decent people doing similar.
One problem here is that all the best attractions to visit are not on the bus line or train line, this is great of you have a car but not if you are impoverished and inept like me. I also don't as yet feel like walking miles to see things but we will get out soon and find some better pictures than what we find now.
Sitting here drinking my honey filled light Horlicks I am enjoying watching Scotland play Costa Rica. Asalways with Scotland the word 'enjoy' is notto be taken seriously.
For a start I have to seek out a stream to watch this game. While England fans have the dubious option of watching their losers on ITV Scots cannot do this, I expect however STV will be showing the England game to rub this in. So folks like me who canny afford 'SKY' have to seek out one of those horrid streams that convey the game to us poor folks, this I have found on malware full 'First Row' and a blessing to go with this is the lack of commentary! No blethering numpty to fill the screen with needless words and talk about a different game from the one I watch.
Of course with another of the 'Old Firm' Glasgow Mafia leading the team it is no surprise to find many of his 'friends' in the side, including a goalkeeper who is second choise at his own team to a better Scots goalie who has not been brought into the squad! We need not mention Charlie Mulgrew who has only one left foot and keptputting the ball onto hisright in the first half. Overall this was nothing special as a game, Costa Rica are preparing for the World Cup in Russia while we are rebuilding once again and the result does not matter but individual performances do. McBurnie at centre looked OK as did McTimanay or whatever his name is in midfield. Both have lots to learn but did no bad. McGinn of Hibs appeared and committed more fouls in ten minutes than most do in 90!
We did make some chances and miss them, they only made one in the second half and hit the bar so in the end I am not to unhappy with this mishmash of a side mainly because theyoung lads did OK.
This is not the first time we have met Costa Rica, during Italia 90 we managed to laugh at this small nation far away and rejoiced at meeeting them. We lost one nil. This however has not led some, especially the hacks, to continue regarding such sides as 'small teams' while we are a big one. That attitude has failed us so often in qualifying for tournaments that you might think it had gone, it hasn't and tonight will not see an end of such arrogance.
There is an unlimited amount of fuss in the media at the moment regarding the 'Honours.' This is the system where the nation rewards individuals for what they have done for the nation or at east one small part of it over a lifetime. Most of course go to the high and mighty regardless of worth though many indeed deserve a reward for their labours. The benefit of such a system is that Lollipop ladies, gardeners, charity workers and individuals who have benefited those around them by helping out can get recognised and a wee bit of deserved publicity.
The media however concentrates on media stars, celebrities or politicians and debate whether they deserve or not such rewards. Personally I wonder at some 'celebs' who are given Knighthoods and Damehoods unless of course it is a suggestion, and not too subtle a suggestion, that it is time they retired and never came back. On the other hand it is a wonder that certain people wander the streets as 'commoners' while many of us consider them worthy of such a reward, maybe their face doesn't fit?
At this point I must make clear that I have not been awarded a Knighthood, OBE, CBE or a BBC, in fact I have been ignored once again. But there again I'm not one to grumble...
The thing people wish to see at football is goals, lots of goals. So you can imagine how I feel having sat through two nil-nil draws! The first was disappointing in that the sectarian bigots failed to either kick one another off the field or institute a riot. This was disappointing as one would hope for this in a vain effort to have them both closed down. This surprised me also as the home side, Celtic, ought to have been far ahead by half time and then in the second half they allowed their blue bigot opponents back into the game and indeed to make the better chances. All very disappointing. In the end I was just wishing the depressing bigotfest to cease and allow me to have my after lunch (which was terrible) nap.
Then I had to ignore football completely until six in the evening. At that time BBC Alba offered the full Aberdeen v Heart of Midlothian game, a proper football match between proper football teams, or at least they are on paper.
This game also ended as a no scoring draw but was much better in that we were involved. The main grumbles were the BBC Alba director who felt the need to look deep into the eyes of each and every player,that is when he was not watching some character in the stand, the Aberdeen manager or someone on the bench applying an ice pack to a wound. Someone needs to tell him that the game is played on the park and that close ups off ugly men are not required! I wonder if it is a woman? This would explain the incompetence as she searches for someone to pay her way.
The only other grievance was the expected one, John Beaton the referee has to send off a Heart of Midlothian player at each game, it is in his SFA contract! This he did by practicing yellow cards for Hearts men but not for Aberdeen ones, even if the jumped into a defender leading with an arm and collapse him. We have seen such refereeing before and no doubt will see it again.
However having established a six game run without conceding a goal we can see how the team is being rebuilt, the right way from the back, and once all the injured players return and new ones come in the January sales we will see much improvement in going forward. That reminds me will someone give Isma Gonzalves his spectacles back sometime soon?
Now I'm not one to complain but there are many reasons why this is possible. Kids going back to school has indeed cleared the shops of the dear little brats but however the mums with pushchairs and no consideration remain. The rain continues to fall when I put my head out the door and the wind continues to blow in the window and unsettle the dust in the room. The telly continues to rouse an attitude of miffed and on Saturday it once again offered one of my favourite grouses, football coverage!
Now to use TV to cover a football match ought to be simple. A large area of grass surrounded by lots of people, simple enough. The players kick the ball and one another back and forth and the camera swings back and forth following the action while the needless commentator, and friend, prattle rubbish alongside. Simple enough so why is it on Saturday while watching BBC Alba's excellent idea of showing us football some of us cannot reach at 6pm why must it be spoiled by employing what I take to be a woman with no knowledge or interest in football to direct the action?
If I wish to see four or five lingering needless close ups of the Heart of Midlothian's manager I will buy a photograph of him, I don't wish to see either him or several close ups of the Aberdeen manager, a shock indeed is that. I want to see what is happening on the large green area not what is not happening on the sidelines.
The fascination with nothing continued with a view of two men wearing what looked like kids sunglasses, funny perhaps but not while the game is in motion, they are not on the field and that is where we ought to be looking. I consider directors with an understanding of the game and the way it is run also important but I do not wish to see the camera lingering for an age on the Aberdeen chairman and acolytes I wish to see the game. Our own dear chairwoman is better looking but why we look at her while the game is in play is beyond comprehension, she can see the game why not us?
Of course TV folks always find spurious excuses for their incompetence and I would like to hear those from the final fifteen minutes of the game. The Heart of Midlothian were piling on the pressure and a ball was abut to be crossed into the goalmouth and suddenly we found ourselves staring at a ball boy sitting on his stool immersed in the game we could not see! Why? A mistake, fair enough, but with five minutes to go and pressure and excitement building as the Hears attack we suddenly are offered a sweeping slow sight of the entire ground for no good reason and are unable to follow what is happening.
Top this with constant close ups of the back of players heads long after the ball has left them and while the crowd are reacting to things we cannot see and I begin to wonder whether the woman has a fancy for the players or is just incompetent? This happens in all games these days and in spite of their experience built up over the past few years BBC Alba continue to be the worst at ignoring the game and watching nothing at all during it.
It's time for change!
I got up slowly today and sloth like entered the world. When the daylight finally began to show I suddenly took it into myself to get on the bike. This thought tired me somewhat so I pushed it aside. However later, when the need for fresh things from Tesco arose, I ventured instead onto the bike in spite of my weak and complaining knees. After twenty or so minutes travelling at speeds exceeding three miles an hour I made it home and then went to Tesco.
The rest of the day has been spent in bed!
My siesta was forced upon me to make up for the early rise and soon after I woke much later I noticed it was time for Rangers v Hibs so I stayed in bed and watched Hibernian crumple under the bigot boys from Ibrox. A sair fecht indeed that the Hibs were just not good enough on the day. It looks like the play offs are their only hope.
However luck was in, not long after this Manchester United played Chelsea so I decided to remain in the filthy gray sheets (I must change them sometime in the new year) and watch this game. In the few minutes in between I managed to make my tea (how good is the microwave?) and settle back before the start.
Two enthralling games to follow on from the one yesterday when the Heart of Midlothian took on the other bigot side and were held to a draw. Scottish football is in a good state, only certain power brokers in the SFA/SPLF could disagree (and Mr Milne of course).
Now I note the last game today is not being covered by an online stream so I have time to scribble and then try to get my miniature quadcoptor to work. Quite what I am supposed to do with this thing (about two inches in length and with no camera) I know not. Just flying it around might be fun however. Hmmm maybe I should try this at the muse....no, I had better not.
Back to bed I think.
Today as you all realise is a special day, St Andrews Day! Now I will not wax lyrical about Scots superiority as I don't wish for you to feel inferior, even though as non Scots you are, so Iwill pass this day in a simple manner.
The ticket above celebrates the first ever football international which was played in Glasgow in 1872. This date is so long ago even our friend Mike Smith was not in attendance! The score between the Scots heroes and the imperialist upper class twits was 0-0. This shows how good their goalkeeper had been during the game. Such internationals between the only two nations playing in such organised football matches became an annual event, one year in England the next in the land of the free. This continued until during the 1970's the glory of the encounter wore off and Scotland began to look at the wider football world and saw meetings with then 'Auld enemy' of little meaning. Of course some wish to bring back this game but with the wider scope of football today Scots would be better playing European sides and developing young players, especially in what were once called 'B' internationals.
In spite of much weeping and gnashing of teeth I only managed to attend two of these games, both at Hampden Park, Glasgow. The first finished in a 1-1 draw and I was placed high in what we term the 'Rangers End' under cover from the rain and surrounded by drunken wee Glasgow neds. The result meant we failed to qualify for the European Championships that year and we were somewhat surprised by the wee neds bursting into drunken tears at the end. The result meant a lot to drunken Rangers fans in those days.
We left, I say 'we' but I have no memory of whom I attended the game alongside, we left and made our way down the dangerous slippery slopes and turned to our right heading for the bus. The one little difficulty here was the stream of thousands from the other end who were making their way to the left. We crossed though this far from merry throng and followed the right crowd in the right direction. As we got halfway down we passed one of the common sights in Glasgow at the time, one somewhat imbued individual standing facing the masses heading in the direction directly opposite to he himself. naturally you and I would move to the correct crowd and follow their movement this joker stayed where he was and by swinging his arms and misusing industrial language requested the thousands to move and let him past. He may still be there, trampled into the tarmac!
The next time I managed to get a ten shilling ticket was two years later in 1972, the price had not gone up much in one hundred years you notice so I suspect the early one shilling fee was intended to put off the rougher element. 1972 gave us the second only 0-0 draw in one hundred years of football. I was there - in 1972 that is. It was not a great game, the loudest cheer came when the Ayrshire Drum Majorettes (aged between 8 and 80) appeared at half time, short skirts and swinging long sticks, marched in time to the music to the far end of the ground, faced the crowd and went down on one knee. I believe seven at least had heart attacks at that moment. There was little else to consider. Of course I was with three others, one, with an English accent that came from being brought up down south, one with an Edinburgh accent wishing England would score and two of us trying to make sure these two did not get too close to Rob Roy MacGregor wearing the 'See You Jimmy' cap and confused drunken expression just in case he lashed out. The other joy of Hampden in those days was ensuring you stood between the crush barriers. These tended to collapse with age and with 137,500 tickets handed in (only 135,000 had been printed by the organisers) and you stood where you would survive if one or other went.
We avoided the crush afterwards by heading into town, amongst the crush. This meant waiting next to a police horse slavering at both ends with one of Glasgow's finest psychpathic polis sitting upon it. The joys of football crowds! Today all has changed. The slippery slopes have been replaced, seating is compulsory for safety reasons and only 50,000 or so attend. Some wish to bring back standing at football matches because of a rose tinted view of the past, I say no, not for any crowd over 5000, it is just to dangerous.
So we celebrate St Andrew in the usual Scots way, we mention it and just get on with life. Not like the drunken Irish who celebrate St Patrick ( a Welshman) who they care little about nor the English who's imperialism wishes to bring back a celebration of St George, a man born in Armenia! I wonder if they would let him in as a migrant?
Happy St Andrews Day anyway.
