Uilleam

Actually, I could see a wage rise and a contract extension for the little turd; after all, there is no alternative to him; imagine where we would be if he was lured away by a top club side!!!

Wilson An interview from today's Times of London with the great man (a pity about the author, but hold your nose and read):- http://www.thetimes.co.uk/edition/scotland/we-lost-in-bratislava-but-later-we-crushed-spain-6-2-8ljpb2df5 We lost in Bratislava — but later we crushed Spain 6-2 Davie Wilson played in a powerful Scotland team but, he tells Graham Spiers, they lost in Czechoslovakia Graham Spiers October 11 2016, 12:01am, The Times Wilson resisted the riches of clubs south of the border to stay at Rangers, where he scored 157 goals It is 55 years ago now since Davie Wilson travelled to Bratislava with Scotland to face Czechoslovakia in a World Cup qualifier. This most prized Rangers left winger was 24 years old, earning £45 a week at Ibrox, and savouring every day of his life in football. “These were special times — and what a Scotland team we had back then,” Wilson enthuses to me over a cup of tea in Glasgow. “Sometimes you felt nobody could touch us. You’re talking guys like Denis Law, Jimmy Baxter, players of that ilk. Don’t forget I played in a Scotland team that trounced Spain 6-2 in Madrid in 1963.” The mystery only deepens. A check of the record books shows that, on that trip to Bratislava in 1961, Scotland were beaten 4-0 by the Czechs and Slovaks. One month earlier they had gone down 9-3 at Wembley. Yet a year later Scotland would beat England at Hampden, and go back to Wembley and win 2-1. To say nothing of that slaughter of Spain in the Bernabéu. The best goal I ever scored in my life, funnily enough, was during that Scotland 9-3 disaster at Wembley Wilson is keen to point out how many fine margins there were in football back then. “We finished the 1962 World Cup qualifying campaign level on points with the Czechs, and it went to a play-off, which they won 4-2, but only after our goalie, Eddie Connachan, had made a mistake,” he said. “Well, the Czechs went on to the World Cup final in ’62 where they lost 3-1 to Brazil. So as a team, we weren’t so far behind them. Look what we did to Spain.” Scotland defeating Spain 6-2 away was, and remains, an astonishing result. Yet the players in dark blue back then — Wilson, Ian St John, a young Willie Henderson, an emerging Billy McNeill, a brilliant Eric Caldow, never mind Baxter — were among the finest in Britain. They were days when Wilson himself felt the very essence of happiness. “I was a Rangers player, and a Scotland player, and I used to come out to the front door to give my father his match tickets — this would be either for games at Ibrox or at Hampden. He would stand there and his eyes would be laughing. His whole face would be saying, ‘that’s my boy’. “The best goal I ever scored in my life, funnily enough, was during that Scotland 9-3 disaster at Wembley. England had gone 3-0 up but my goal brought it back to 3-2. “I scored 157 goals for Rangers and quite a pile, too, for Dundee United, but that goal at Wembley was my best. I thought, ‘right, 3-2, here we go’. But, my god, our goalkeeper Frank Haffey … what a stinker. I was a better goalie than him.” In the early 1960s quite a few Scottish players, among them Baxter and Pat Crerand, chose to take the riches of English club football. But Wilson says he had no desire to give up playing in front of vast crowds at Ibrox, nor to leave the institution that was Rangers. “In 1961 Everton came to see me on the quiet — at my pigeon loft, in fact — with a view to signing me. They didn’t want anyone to know about it. “Everton said to me, ‘we’re going to put a bid in of £100,000 for you — you’ll be the first £100,000 player in British football.’ But I said to them, ‘I’m sorry, I cannae come’. For one thing, I was very happy at Rangers. But also, it would have been impossible for my father to travel from Glasgow to Liverpool for games, and he came to all my matches. “I would have gone on more money down there — about £100 a week. But I never wanted to leave the Rangers. And that was the end of it.” During this time Wilson claimed 22 Scotland caps —he would triple that today — and saw first hand the genius that prevailed in the Scottish game. “The best coaches I ever worked under would be Jock Stein and Eddie Turnbull. Whenever I was around Turnbull [as a youth player] I just wanted to hear what he had to say about football. He was a coach with tremendous ideas. “At Ibrox my manager was Scot Symon: he never left his office. I doubt he ever once saw us train. But he knew he had a great team. It was our trainer, Davie Kinnear, who got us fit. Mr Symon just picked the team — a 4-3-3 — and out we went. “This was the Rangers of Ian McMillan, Baxter, Henderson, Bobby Shearer, Caldow, Ralphie Brand and Jimmy Millar. In Baxter and McMillan we had two great passers of the ball. McMillan was a winger’s dream — he just took out the defenders every time with his passes.” Wilson used to go “jivin’” at the Barrowlands dancehall in Glasgow but his football remained sweet and pure. On March 17, 1962, he scored six for Rangers — a record that still stands — in a 7-1 win at Falkirk. But the end would come at Ibrox. After 11 trophy-laden years with Rangers, Wilson was suddenly dumped by the club, when Symon decided to swap him for Dundee United’s dribbling Swede, Orjan Persson. “I’ve made the biggest mistake of my life,” Wilson claims Symon said to him on the phone a week later, with the former replying, “well, it’s too late now”. At 29, he went on to enjoy four good seasons at Tannadice, where a young Walter Smith was his kit boy and gofer. “I had great times at United,” he says. “But then Jim McLean, who was actually younger than me, came over the road from Dundee to be the Dundee United manager. I knew Jim wouldn’t take to me. I said to Walter, ‘lad, go and get my boots, cos I’ll be off … this manager won’t fancy me.’ “Jim came in and said to me, ‘I’m going to let you go’. It was nothing to do with skill, but the fact I was older than him. I thought, I’m going to have my say here. So I said, ‘you know what Jim … you couldn’t play in the games that I’ve played in … you couldn’t have played in the Bernabeu or in European finals.’ “We had our wee tiff. But when Jim won the title with Dundee United in 1983 I phoned him and said, ‘well done, you’re a very good manager, and I hope we can forget our fall-out’. He said, ‘aye, okay, let’s leave it at that’.” At Ibrox my manager was Scot Symon: he never left his office. I doubt he ever once saw us train Today Wilson is a contented man in Glasgow, soon to be 80 years old, and with an unusual side to his life. “I’m a spiritualist,” he says. “I go to a spiritualist church. I’m a medium. It’s just something that’s in you that has to be brought out. “I’ve never had a drop of alcohol in my life — we weren’t all Jimmy Baxters. I never fancied the taste of it. My father didn’t drink and nor did my mother. “Whenever we won anything at Rangers, and they poured champagne into the cup, I put it up to my lips as if I was drinking it, but I never did. These were great, great days.”

Let us hope that the experience has benefited MacKay, and that he has learned something from it, beyond confirmation that the Manager is a twisted cee-blank-blank-tee.

Indeed he did, in the 89th minute..... https://www.theguardian.com/football/2016/oct/09/mustafa-kapi-galatasaray-14-year-old-debut Galatasaray’s 14-year-old Mustafa Kapi makes first-team debut in friendly • Kapi makes brief cameo in 2-0 away win over Levski Sofia • Midfielder born in 2002 has spent three years in club academy Galatasaray fans may have a new homegrown hero to cheer after 14-year-old Mustafa Kapi received his first-team debut in a friendly. Sunday 9 October 2016 12.10 BST Last modified on Sunday 9 October 2016 14.13 BST Galatasaray handed 14-year-old academy player Mustafa Kapi his first-team debut in a friendly against Levski Sofia. Mustafa, a midfielder who joined from Denizlispor in 2013, replaced Sinan Gumus in the 89th minute at Levski’s Georgi Asparuhov Stadium in the Bulgarian capital. Galatasaray won 2-0, with goals from Josué and Hamit Altintop, who began his career before Mustafa was born in 2002. Another player – the right-back Sabri Sarioglu – has been playing for Galatasaray for his new team-mate’s entire life. The teenager thanked the manager, Jan Olde Riekerink, with a hug at the final whistle. Riekerink was the head of youth development for Ajax’s reserve team and has also managed youth teams in China. On this evidence, he is clearly prepared to give youth a chance. The Dutchman could offer Mustafa further opportunities with Galatasaray in a transitional phase – they finished sixth in the league last season, and were handed a two-year ban from European competition in March after failing to comply with financial fair play regulations.

It seems his race is run. Here is a review of his book, from today's Observer: https://www.theguardian.com/books/2016/oct/09/joey-barton-no-nonsense-review-autobiography No Nonsense by Joey Barton review – a serial adopter of the fresh start The controversial footballer’s autobiography teems with the rhetoric of self-development, but there’s no denying his self-deprecating humour… Alex Clark Sunday 9 October 2016 10.00 BST In a fractured and fractious world, diplomacy – or at least tact deployed so that one may get one’s way – is a vital tool. As with greatness, some men are born to it, some achieve it, and some have it thrust upon them: others, like the footballer Joey Barton, appear to have decided to dispense with it altogether. Here he is, resolved to confront his manager at Queens Park Rangers, Harry Redknapp, about the team’s terrible form: “He was watching the Racing Channel, and it was pointless hedging my bets. “‘Gaffer, I need to speak with you. I don’t know how you’ve managed to do this, but everyone hates you.’” There’s not hedging your bets, and then there’s walking in with an actual hedge and setting fire to it. But if Redknapp felt himself to be staring into the abyss of social isolation at that moment, Barton was also on hand with a glimmer of hope. He actually liked him. Barton, of course, makes great play of the fact that he doesn’t care whether he is liked or not. A famously enthusiastic user of Twitter, his sales pitch for his autobiography advised his followers: “If you want to buy it, buy it. If you don’t, don’t. But don’t come on here moaning at me today. I can’t be arsed with you. Have a day off.” (He had even shorter shrift for golfer Bubba Watson in the wake of America’s recent Ryder Cup victory: “Why is Bubba crying? Never even played. Dickhead!”) Full disclosure: I do like him. I interviewed him for the Observer four years ago, when an editor’s wheeze was to film us going round the Lucian Freud exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery – the idea being to reflect Barton’s apparent rebirth as a culture vulture. Charitably, you could call it a bid to disrupt expectations; but you might also suspect a little de haut en bas teasing. Anyway, we had a nice time, and afterwards we went for a spot of lunch at an unglamorous little cafe of Barton’s choosing, where he ate vegetable soup and hummus: he was swerving meat, he explained, having been reading up on it But a pleasant promenade can’t magically vanish Barton’s baggage. His combative personality has caused him problems at all his clubs, from Manchester City to Newcastle United, where he called caretaker manager Alan Shearer a cheat and accused him of wanting to surround himself with sycophants, to Glasgow Rangers, where he is nearing the end of a suspension for rowing with a team-mate following a 5-1 tonking in an Old Firm match. Last week he was also charged with allegedly placing 44 bets on football matches between July and September, in contravention of the Scottish Football Association’s rules on gambling. Off the pitch, there have been serious outbreaks of violence involving team-mates – Jamie Tandy, Ousmane Dabo – a teenage fan and his father while on a trip to Bangkok, not to mention various off-duty city-centre bust-ups with members of the public. Barton is a serial adopter of the fresh start; over the years, he has repeatedly declared himself a new man, wiser, more mature, in control of the destructive impulses that assail him. Now, perhaps more realistically, he has alighted on the Japanese theory of kaizen, or gradual and continuous improvement, and his book bustles with the frequently overblown verbal tics of self-development. It would be unfair to dismiss it because of that. Barton’s exploration of his childhood, which, despite close relationships with many family members and particularly his grandmother, was permeated with violence, will be rejected by his detractors as the search for an excuse. But killing and GBH were all around him; his brother Michael and a cousin are serving jail sentences for the racist murder of 18-year-old Anthony Walker in 2005. After the pair fled the country, Barton appealed to them to return and give themselves up but, he says, he still continually asks himself whether he could have done anything – presumably by exerting greater influence on them – to prevent the murder. Swagger though he might, those experiences have clearly marked him. But there is still humour. When Barton joined the England squad in 2007 to gain his one senior cap, he was greeted with a certain amount of frostiness by those of his new team-mates who had published autobiographies following a shabby showing in the previous year’s World Cup; Barton lampooned their efforts as “We got beat in the quarter-finals. I played like shit. Here’s my book.” It is to Barton’s credit that he captions a photograph of himself training with “my fellow authors, Steven Gerrard and Frank Lampard”. See also his response to a reporter’s question as he left Rangers following his suspension. “Are you still a Rangers player, Joey?” Pause. “I think so.” No Nonsense is published by Simon & Schuster (£20). Click here to buy it for £16.40

I'll be glad when the break is over. Maybe it is, now, after last night. Still, on the plus side, we had the chance to watch the All Blacks destroy South Africa, in Durban, yesterday afternoon. Nine tries to none.

I think that he would have been sacked (he should have been) after his last flawed, failed campaign, if there was not malign influence at court. It is useful to certain power brokers to keep him in place, it seems. The argument that there is no alternative holds no water, as it rarely does. If Red Dwarf walked under the Cathcart bus tomorrow, would the National XI continue without a Manager/Coach? The argument that there is no one better is flawed, too, if only because he has failed, and shows every sign of failing again. Last night was, for the greater part, a bloody shambles, after all. There must be a reason that the SFA is hell bent on rewarding serial failure.

Not cheap; and nowhere near value. Personally, I would not give the SFA couterfeit coin, but the support, whose most prominent trait, admittedly, seems to be masochism, are being milked. And The Bauchle is on what, c 400K GBP? To preside over a shambles ?

Old School: any goal against the fhilth is a great goal; some goals are greater than others. Jock Wallace was asked, after a Rangers' victory over them, can't remember which "What was your best goal?" He replied, succinctly "The winner."

I watched, for my transgressions, the entire game, courtesy of Messrs Sky Sports. How much were the SFA charging those poor saps who actually attended? Frankly, for a must win game, it was piss poor. In fact it was not merely piss poor, it was Marks' and Spencer's piss poor. In fact, it was not merely Marks' and Spencer's piss poor, it was Nurse Cafferkey's Ebola infected piss poor. On almost immediate reflection, last night, I suggested that it may have been better to lose the match, and, as a consequence, to suffer a quick clean demise, rather than to endure what, ineluctably, seems will be a longer, slower, death of 1000 cuts, or of half a dozen draws (no matter how "brave"). I see, in the bright light of morning, no reason to change my mind. The National Manager, or Coach, or however he is styled, is clearly struggling. I think he should be retained until failure is unavoidable. During this period of -what?- a year, the SFA should identify a leet of potential candidates, and on The Bauchle's departure, appoint the preferred candidate, giving him (her?) a few dead rubbers to bed in, prior to the next campaign. Of course, a major difficulty is that Red Dwarf, and his partner in crime, represent pieces in rasellikfc jigsaw of influence and control, and any changes in their status will be dependent upon their usefulness, or otherwise, to that particular rat's nest. To expect an appointment without the imprimatur of the King Across the Water, or His Regent at the piggery, may be startlingly naive. All of this presupposes that I give a damn. Maybe the fact that I have written it means I do.

The media used to tout him as "one of the top young managers in Europe", regularly Don't tell me that they called that wrongly. They used to assure (actually reassure given his behaviour and general demeanour) their readers/listeners/viewers of his sophisticated intellect and his erudition, frequently. Don't tell me that they called this wrongly. I used to think such fulsome eulogies, often repeated, as they were, exaggerated his qualities, such as they were, greatly; I considered them naught but propaganda, if you like. Don't tell me that I called this wrongly.

Well, there are not many teeth to count in rahoops support, as a rule, and damned few would risk flashing gold in that company.

Looks like he will have some time on his hands, and will be able to read Plato, Aristotle, Homer, and all the Ancient Greats. He might even be able to discuss them with Joey B!!

I always had time for Willie Ormond. Ally McLeod really ballsed it up in 1978. After that fiasco, which scarred the best minds of several generations, supporting the Scotland XI was never the same: the fun and fantasy was gone, and, thereafter, well, we just knew.......

Senderos may be the 1st player to be retrospectively tried and punished on non existent evidence. It has got to happen to a Rangers' man sometime!!!

Indeed, sir, indeed. I forecast that he will receive 28 hours Community Service, which he may spend receiving Instruction in the Catholic faith, and, thereafter, a season ticket for sellikPark.

I have long feared that the PF/Lord Advocate's Office lacks the wisdom, the wit, or, critically, the will, to push this matter to a proper conclusion. Prentice, QC, may, as you say, bring a degree of professional competence to the party, but, sadly, he is not in charge, but under Instruction. Let us hope that he is given leeway to prosecute properly, is afforded all cooperation by the Crown, and secures a conviction. What is the likely sentence to follow these charges, presupposing that the sleazebag is found Guilty?

I heard, via parents of a lad currently on the books, that a youth player, training with the 1st team, nutmegged Joey B; twice; shouting " 'megs ". As we know, a young guy , if he has the talent, and the attitude, is going to do stuff like that. JB took significant exception, however, and, as they say, halved him with a tackle. Andy Halliday, at that point, got involved, and had a severe difference of opinion with Barton. Coaching staff intervened. Barton was sent to the dressing room. Next day, Warburton saw JB in his office. Words were exchanged. Strong words. Very strong words. Opinions were offered. Strong opinions. Very strong opinions. MW took exception, and suspended him. If this is accurate, then it seems clear that matters got significantly out of hand; 3 weeks is a long period of suspension, and a long cooling off period. I do not know if time will heal, or merely entrench differences. Barton it seems to me has always been a rancorous bastard, so I am not optimistic that he will reappear in the team, suitably chastened, even if Management is prepared to countenance this. On the other hand, maybe the blow up has cleared the air, and the frustrations. In any event he will be unfit, and will need weeks to get up to speed. But really, can he screw the nut?

Maybe the dog ate it.

We will be denied justice for the offensive and inflammatory behaviour of Guttersnipe FC: - for the provocative and demeaning banner: Know Your Place, Hun Scum; -for the provocative and inflammatory banner: This Is War.... -for the provocative and inflammatory banner: Kill All Huns -for the execution posed mannequins -for the tacit connivance of the board and management of Guttersnipe FC in all of the above.

In Australia, I believe, a Joey is a young kangaroo. Barton to bounce back, then......

I wonder if any sheriff(s) hearing the case will follow the sage guidance of the Lords of Session, in the 'Big Tax Case' appeal, and take a "common sense" view? In such an event, the crime, such as it is, clearly would be identified as one aggravated by religious bigotry. Of course, if memory serves, the fellow at Tynecastle who had a strong difference of opinion with the Lurgan bigot, was charged with an offence aggravated by religious hatred, and a jury, in this instance, returned a Not Guilty verdict. As far as I know, the "religious rider" on the charge was the reason that such verdict was returned.

Too long ago for a 'selfie', your posterior caught for posterity; such a shame.

3 - 1 to Rangers. 1st goal by Jason Holt

Score early, score often; you know it makes sense.