Uilleam

What are the implications for player insurance of this SFA nonsense?

Frankly, if the English FA wishes a manager for its National XI, it should hire, irrespective of the cost, Carlo Ancelotti.

He has consistently got one thing right: the credulity of his readership.

Disappointing. One of the few pleasures a gentleman has left is watching the fhilth being horsed in Europe.

The spin is in: The Judicial Panel found that Hibs had no case to answer. As a result of that -and by implication, only as a result of that- charges had to be withdrawn from Rangers, the perennially guilty party. I am grateful to BBC Scotland for this.

Wright will be aware that if he doesn't favour rasellik, and its "magnificent fans", and disparage Rangers, and its fans, then he will get, from the mherry pranksters, at best monumental hassle, at worst a sore face.

There are few less impressive sights in the world than a Scotsman on the make. And Mr Sam Avarice is as Scots as, oh, well....Rod Stewart... (Apologies to JM Barrie of Kirriemuir)

I should look at why Messrs Crooks, Rossiter, and Windass, are aye injured, because I might think that they could help dig me out of my current hole.

Any more puns like that, and I'll get you bandoneoned.

That's the chap in the film who plays "Duelling Accordions", isn't it?

The seat seems to come from behind the cameraman. Or am I blind?

Yes, but you have to factor in the ability of the players at the manager's (coaches') disposal. And that is a whole other debate. This season, in particular, I have thought, after (during!) every game, 'Not good enough', and that, for me, is, well, not good enough.

A shocking challenge, and a straight red card anywhere else in Europe. Little wonder BT replayed it a no of times. Never mind the bad media, Brenda, two or three more poor results and you can throw your players under the wheels of the green brigade's Gaza relief convoy.

The most likely outcome will be a disciplinary promotion for the deceitful drab.

I think, as I said elsewhere, earlier, that they may be over reaching themselves. They have come to believe that they may act, in any way, and publish, well, most anything, with impunity, hence the appalling display of bigotry and arrogance at the swinefold, and articles such as Hamilton's lie, and Braiden's scurrilous speculation. They will come unstuck. Hubris will usher in nemesis, and the sooner the better.

So the Glasgow Herald, as it once was, has apologised (in a manner of speaking) for the scurrilous nonsense Gerry Braiden (no North Briton he, I'll wager), and some ambulance chaser, whom one would think would know better, presented to the public, yesterday, re: Rangers and Joey B. What with this and the disgraceful displays at the piggery, would I be right in thinking that they begin to over reach themselves, as that type always tends to do? It will end, as it always tends to do, in tears and frustration for them.

It all sounds a trifle complex for these rubes: not only do they have to get the palm of one hand to hit the palm of the other, more than once, they have to do it in unison. Still, now that oil is seventeen shillings and sixpence per barrel, or whatever, they will have plenty of rehearsal time.

I hear that the arrestee is called 'Lynch'.

Would the collective noun be, in the newspaper trade, a "Chapel" of assholes?

Unless this ambulance chaser has seen transcripts, statements and suchlike, his observations are purely speculative, and quite without value. File under 'Mischief Making'. Of course if he has had sight of documents, it begs the rather large question of source.

In this country you may insult the Head of State in the vilest manner possible, and the authorities will take no action; if, however, you chose to apply the same or similar teminology to the Bishop of Rome, old Pontifex Maximus himself, you risk a custodial sentence. (For the avoidance of doubt, I should rather that we could disparage, disrespect, or deprecate both, fearlessly.)

Christ, that wasn't actually betting, it was merely "buying money".

Joey Barton not involved?

Until I hear more, and to the contrary, I am inclined to treat this as little more than a sterrheid rammy, albeit one writ large by the slavering press, to a man desperate for Barton to be caught in bed with a dead woman, or a live man.

"Watty", perhaps?