gibberish

Wouldn’t it be nice if Cardiff City took the FA Cup out of England on Saturday?

Nothing against Portsmouth because if they win it takes it out of the big 4.

Me though?

I’m with my Celtic cousins.

“Fingers twitch over keyboard.

Mind wanders off to the wildreness of Arran.

As the prospect of conflict weighs heavy.

On the soul.

Bring it on.

The Auchrannie Quaich.

To the victor.  The spoils.”

Yes.  I’m off in search of the trophy.  Shame I’m pish at golf.

I will, of course, win best dressed man.

I can hardly believe that Tommy Burns has passed away. Tommy was not an old man (only 52) and was First team coach and head of the Celtic Youth Academy until he was taken ill. Tommy was certainly worthy of the title “Celtic legend” and was a thoroughly decent man. Who can forget him going a whole season undefeated (or maybe he lost only one game?) and yet not winning the title as Celtic manager during the reign of King Walter

It was well known that he had been suffering from cancer but I was unaware of how serious the situation was. What a terribly sad piece of news and it renders reports on last night’s Rangers match versus Zenit St Petersburg redundant.

My golf, as regular readers will know, is a mixture of disappointment and disaster mixed up with a smattering of anger, frustration and bad luck.

I am never, ever lucky and when push comes to shove I always lose on the last - like last week in the club doubles.  Add to this the fact that, on account of my putting so badly on Sunday, my putter is now in putter hospital (ICU) I was not feeling overly confident about beating my mate ‘Senor (El Bandirto ) Chris Rough’ in the Club Handicap championship first round

When he announced that, far from his handicap being cut because of his Mexican tendencies, it had just gone UP and consequently I was faced with the challenge of giving him a full six strokes my heart sank.

Disaster loomed.

Sure enough, I quickly surrendered an early lead to go one down but scrambled to the turn all square.

Neither of us were playing the beautiful game.  In fact it was like an East Stirling v Dumarton relegation play off match.  Huff, puff and a lot of fecking swearing.

But gradually Chris succumbed to my pressure (Actually he just drove like Nikki Lauda - on the burny day) and I found myself on the 16th tee two up.  Sure enough, he won the 16th to take it back to one and somehow I managed to grind out a half, despite giving him a stroke, on the 17th.

Dormy one.

All there to lose.

Chris hit his best drive of the night to the par three 18th (20 feet from the pin).  I hit a piece of shit to 40 yards, left, in the rough.  My second was so-so leaving me a 15 foot downhill putt from off the green.  Chris, meanwhile,  was 10 feet away from a three.

That was when life deviated from the script.  The pin removed; Gorman stood over the 15 footer, gently nudged the ball holeward and with the very final roll of the ball it dropped.

Victory.

Poor old Chris.  How will he ever live it down!

After all the fuss about referee Mike McCurry’s performance in the Rangers v Dundee Utd match last Saturday the SFA is in no position to defend his behaviour as this photo of the linesman demonstrates.

This was the scene that greeted us on the first at Dundas Parks Golf Course today as we teed up for the Club championship doubles.

Frankly, it was uninviting.

But we didn’t hesitate. Twice we had to come off the course as the lightning pelted the course left right and centre. But the game must go on.

And, sure, it rained a bit.

A lot actually.

Like Gladiators. myself and Dick Whittock, a nice older guy from Kirkliston (known locally as Cheesetown) built up a two hole advantage, ground out over the first ten holes only to play like a couple of fannies on the 11th to go back to one up.

By the 13th it was all square as Trevor Jones sank putt after putt. And his playing partner, Douglas was rock solid throughout.

And level was how it remained until the 17th when they snuck into the lead. The damage was done. A half on the 18th meant dreams of trophy lifting in the Greensomes will have to wait until 2009.

Bummer.

This is brilliant.  Click on the interview panel on the BBC sports page at this link.

Craig Levien, Dundee Utd’s manager, letting off steam after losing a crucial game to Rangers today. Now, when I say letting off steam I mean totally losing it. I like and respect Craig Levien - even if he is a Jambo - and I know exactly how he must feel

And oh what joy to find this old school photo of him on google…

And this one…

Yes, that’s right. It is yours truly on the left. A vision in black. And not overly gaylordish.

Now, we all know that referees favour Celtic and Rangers, but according to Levien, Mike McCurry’s performance today was nothing short of a scandal. He calls him a cheat - which will get him in big trouble with the numpties that run our game - but he is almost certainly right. I haven’t seen the incidents in question, but judging from this outburst I think he probably has a point.

Listening to discussion about it on Five Live’s 606-phone in a Rangers fan brushed it off by saying…

“They’re getting all excited about this one game. Maybe if they’d tried this hard all season against lesser teams this would be less of an issue.”

A neat body swerve I have to say, but, you know what? Totally true!

And that applies to every other team in this shitty league.

And Hibs are no exception.

They turn up for the old firm and Hearts matches and don’t bother their arses against the likes of Aberdeen, Motherwell, St Mirren…

That’s why I don’t go along any more.

I have supported Rangers’ dogged and boring progress through Europe but I am not, repeat not, a closet Hun. And they couldn’t have achieved it without ripping the guts out of The Hibees first 11.

This is funny. Thanks Mike.

One thing I am 100% behind them on is condemnation of the stance that the SFA have done nothing to further the cause of the Scottish game.

Exactly.

SFA.

Is Walter Smith the greatest football manager Scottish football has ever enjoyed?

I think so.

I was in Glasgow tonight to witness, in a pub, the effect this remarkable man has had on a patently average football team. Not only has he achieved greatness for Rangers Football Club but he has done so with six Scottish players on the pitch. Sadly, two of them Hibbies.

Clearly Rangers were not actually better than Fiorentina (or Werder Bemen, or Sporting Lisbon) but they beat them all- this is not typically Scottish behaviour.

But a Scottish team, is in a European Final.

This is genuinely something to celebrate.

C’mon the huns!

Great golf week for Tom.

First off he was playing at number three in the team match at the weekend against a six handicapper (Tom’s off 21) and they play off scratch in these matches. Nevertheless, he halved the match having missed a putt from a foot to win. Doh!

Then yesterday he won the first medal of the season (he won three last year at Ratho and three at Dundas, plus another two prizes). The good thing was this medal was also the qualifier for the Dunfermline Building Society sponsored SGU Scottish Junior Masters.

He might now be cut to 19. I’m 18. Yikes!

My mate Mike is a rubbish golfer. He can’t hit a driver to save himself but he’s solid with a 7 iron. Plop, plop , plop goes each shot, down the middle, sinks the putt and it’s a par.

It’s real safety officer stuff but it grinds out results.

So, to Rangers.

Their European campaign, although succesful is like playing golf with a 7 iron. Nothing ventured, nothing ventured.

It makes you weep how dull and unimaginative it is. It’s horrific. But hey, the ends might just justify the means.

Whatever.

I’m grateful to Pat Rodger for sending me this little peach.

From the Townsville Bulletin (on Australia’s Gold Coast)

George Phillips was going up to bed when his wife told him that he’d left the light on in the garden shed, which she could see from the bedroom window.

George opened the back door to go to turn off the light but saw from the porch that there were people in the shed stealing things.

He phoned the police and explained what was happening; the controller asked

‘Is someone in your house?’

‘No’ he replied.

The response was that all patrols were busy, and that he should simply lock his door and an officer would be along when available.

George said, ‘Okay,’ hung up, counted to 30, and phoned the police again.

‘Hello’ he said ‘I just called you a minute ago because there were people stealing things from my shed. Well, you don’t have to worry about them now because I’ve just shot them.’ Then he hung up.

Within four minutes three police cars, an Armed Response Unit, and an ambulance showed up at the Phillips’ residence and caught the burglars red-handed.

One of the Policemen said to George: ‘I thought you said that you’d shot them!’

To which George replied, ‘I thought you said there was nobody available!’

The Cabbage could get into Europe.

Hearts could win the Diddy League. (Although, if memory serves me correctly Mr Romanov predicted that they should be, about now, in the Semi Finals of the Champion’s League defending last year’s title)

Carlisle United look like getting promoted two years’ running.

Queen of the South, yes, Queen of the South are in tomorrow’s Scottish Cup Final.  If they win they’ll be dancing in the streets of Queen of the South (in fact by all accounts they already are.

Cardiff City are in the English FA Cup Final and they’re not even English.

Rangers are in the EUFA Cup Semi Final.

I blame it on global warming.

Unquestionably Walter Smith has fashioned a team more boring than a Dremel. But it works and hey, it’s good for Scotland’s Euro co-efficient. They played well in Portugal but something says it could be a touch more inspiring.

Barry Ferguson’s booking for kicking the ball away was, well, daft.

But, of course, the major contribution was from a Hibby, Steven Whittaker’s goal was nearly as good as Theo Walcott’s set up on Tuesday night.

Nevertheless, I cheered them on with gusto and I hope they can outdo Celtic’s Sevillian failure.

Are you worried about the future?

Let’s face it, we’re not getting any younger and we all have to think about our lavish lifestyles after our careers are over.

• Are you well past your best?
• Are you looking for an easy life?
• Are you looking for an easy way to enter Britain?

Then you are eligible for the Hearts Life-Plan!

WE PAY YOU over £10,000 a week, there’s a pointless medical and no salesperson will call (you might even get a shot at being manager).

CALL NOW!

There’s a FREE house, car and limitless golf at some of Scotland’s finest courses.

Don’t take our word for it, read these recommendations from some very satisfied clients….

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“I recommended the Hearts plan to all my friends back home.”
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“The Hearts plan supplemented my pension, just when I thought it was too late.”
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“The generosity of the Hearts plan is unmatched in the world of pension finance. It was the best move I have ever made.”
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“Even when everyone said I was too old, Hearts were prepared to supplement my pension with an outrageous offer.”
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“Despite being permanently injured I was still eligible for the Hearts Life-plan - year after year!”
Mr Pinilla, Chile

So don’t sit there worrying about the future - relax - that phone will ring!

Hearts Life-Plan is regulated by V Romanov and his pals at the bank and is funded by the 10,000 who have invested in the “HMFC Season Ticket” pyramid scam over the last 3 years.

Now that was a game of football. The best I’ve seen in a long time

Theo Walcott’s run for Arsenal’s eqauliser at 2 - 2 was reminiscent of this.

Which I really liked.

They can win this league. Indeed they might even be favourites now that the pressure of winning the Champions League has been removed.

It’s well seeing that last week was a blip then. I played like Stevie Wonder’s less able-sighted brother. Like Heather Mills with her legs off. It was awful. 32 over par for fuck’s sake. AFTER my handicap was deducted

I didn’t play LIKE tiger. I played like A tiger, and you tell me the last time you saw a tiger sink a 12 foot putt and I’ll call you a liar.

This game drives me to fucking distraction

I don’t know anyone who has EVER been last in a medal. I was today and I was AT LEAST FIVE TIMES last season. It’s just an embarresment and, you know what, I actually felt sorry for Jon Rough who had to endure playing with me.

May I introduce you to the Tiger Woods of South Queensferry?

One tournament played in the 2008 season.

One victory.

Yes, I am that good. I may have a late developing career as a professional golfer because today I, dear reader, won the opening day Texas Sramble at Dundas Parks with my team members, Paul, Calum, Trisha and Ewan.

In a nine hole contest we shot six pars and three birdies which, after deducting our handicap of ten, gave us a net score of 22 (13 under par)..

Eat shit Tiger. When did you last shoot 13 under par?

Tom had to sit watching (total loser) as we walked elegantly and dignified to the stage to receive our trophy. A bottle of Scotmid Red Wine and six quid.

Whoo hoo.

Gerritrightupya.

I never even played for my school team but I have played football on and off most of my life, and followed it too.

The Scotland friendly against Croatia rose my cynicism levels way out of control though.

Rangers play Celtic on Saturday and five Old Firm players pull out through injury but will be OK for the weekend?

Aye.

Right.

Scotty Brown turned up though.  And got booked.  Says a lot about his commitment.

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