There is, of course, much wailing and gnashing of teeth over in Merlinville but their main concern seems to be to blame Celtic for the sectarian hatred in Scotland. It appears that Ann Budge has been complaining about Celtic fans at Tynecastle on Sunday. According to her, they smashed seats and spray-painted walls; although, strangely, the police have no record of such vandalism. McMurdo and his disciples conjure up visions of Celtic fans running rampage throughout Scotland, citing Dens Park and Fir Park as examples. Remember the business at Dens Park? A few drunks pished themselves and started shouting and it was made out to be worse than a certain dead team's visit to Manchester. As for Fir Park it was only the week before the game in question that Motherwell fans smashed up another stadium; no doubt they were looking to deflect the blame onto somebody else. As for the carry-on in Amsterdam I think everyone outside of Govan knows what the real story there was. In other words, it's all pish and Budge is just trying to do a Charlie Green in sucking up to the bigots.
Again there's also a wee bit of deflection going on. Another moronic Hearts fan ran onto the pitch on Sunday, no doubt looking to achieve the same notoriety as his fellow clown that attacked Neil Lennon. Anthony Stokes, meanwhile, received the obligatory death threats when he dared tell Ann Budge about her own fans' bigotry. No doubt that'll just be a joke!
You've really got to laugh at the sheer brass neck of The Peeppul, especially since they're pariahs all over the known world. McMurdo even tries to resurrect the 'Cybernat' lie, making out that they were all Celtic supporters and that the Scottish Government lets Celtic fans away with murder. Tell that to the ones that have been arrested for singing 'Roll of Honour' while thousands of Bisto fans can be up to their knees with impunity! And I think the whole world could see which side was intimidatory in George Square the day after the referendum.
The appearance of Craig Whyte in court has got them all crawling out, bleating again about how Raynjurz wur the victimz in aw this. Maybe it's just me but I don't get it. For years we've heard rumours about the Kellys lining their pockets by claiming that crowds were less than they actually were. This has been promoted as Celtic cheating. On the other hand, other people's money was used by both Murray and Whyte to keep a team on the pitch. The club would not have won anywhere near what it did if it hadn't been for this cash signing players and paying under-the-table wages. So somebody allegedly takes money out of a club and that's seen as the club cheating, but somebody else swindles other people to put money into a club but that's seen as the club being cheated. No, I still don't get it. Maybe some kind soul could explain it to me.
And the Daily Record, about two days after everybody else, has discovered that Chateau Charlie had a horse called Ibrox running in France. He told the Record, or probably somebody else and the DR copied it, "The colours are red, white and blue — be in no doubt." Now, maybe I'm going colour-blind in my old age, but that certainly doesn't look like red, white and blue to me. He obviously realises that The Peeppul are still as easily gulled as they were when he was handing out cups of tea!
It looks like some of the other owners were taking the piss as well. 'Elusive Painter' could well apply to the midden that is Ibrox, while 'Dream On' sums up the hopes of The Peeppul that they're entering some kind of Golden Age under Ashley. And the number 14 horse seems to be named after Sooperally, though they've forgotten one of the letters in 'Dessert'.
It's rumoured that Charlie is going to run his cuddy at the Scottish Derby next year. Ayr racecourse have already secured the services of an SFA referee as steward and every beast that is in front of Ibrox will be shown a red card and disqualified before they reach the finishing line. Investigations are already underway as to how they can give the brute a penalty kick!
Finally, in honour of last night's game, I think it's time an old, old song was resurrected. I was actually taught this by somebody from Dumfries and it apparently stems from the 1920s or 1930s. Anyway, here we go:
Oh! We are the boys frae Alloa, wae drink yer beer an' wine.
Fur aw yer conversa-a-tion, yer cock's nae bigger than mine!
Wull tickle yer arse wi' a fe-eather an' paint yer baws wi' glue!
Oh! We are the boys frae Alloa, we are the Cumbie Crew.
Alloa - oo - oo!
An absolute classic, I'm sure you'll agree!
"What's this fuckin' referee playin' it? Only five minutes tae go an' nae penalty yit!"
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