I remember one of the Q&A evenings in Blantyre when it was suggested from the floor that Celtic pay whatever money necessary to retain John Park as chief scout. John out-performed his peers for several years, but, as you know, there are no gurus in football. A fallow period followed the recruitment of Mikael Lustig in January 2012; many players arrived in the years since then but few were able to enhance the team (with the odd outstanding exception).
Football scouting at this level isn’t really about being able to spot a player, it is as much about contacts. Your network keeps you. With many of these guys, their networks diminish over time. They fall out with each other regularly – trust is a precious commodity in football transfer negociations. Your value as a scout to an agent is largely dependent on your club. Since 2012 Celtic’s financial position relative to the English leagues has diminished. We will spend less than they will on any given player, and we will buy fewer players.
Perhaps for these reasons Brendan Rodgers decided a change was needed and has now secured his former colleague at Chelsea, Lee Congerton. Congerton has had recent spells at two highly dysfunctional clubs: Hamburg and Sunderland, but rejected a pretty spectacular offer to join Brendan’s revolution at Celtic. We have recruited a known quantity who will fit with the manager’s plans as closely as Chris Davies does. He will also bring a fresh batch of scouts and agents to the table. I hear they are working on plans for the summer already.
Amid the gloating at the hubris of English football amid another humbling in Europe last night, my Dad made the point that unlike Arsenal, or Manchester United, Manchester City didn’t try to cheat us by scamming a penalty in our Champions League encounters. They played with a straight bat.
We have also established a beneficial relationship with them. A year with Jason Denayer, the purchase of Dedryck Boyata and 18 months with Patrick Roberts. So far.
Roberts’ situation at his parent club should be easier to fathom after City’s exit. 10 points adrift in the Premier League and the only team to be eliminated from the Champions League last 16 by a lesser- moneyed side, what chance Pep Guardiola decides what his team needs for next season is a player City shipped out to Celtic in January 2016?
It is not going to happen. Patrick is caught in an impossible situation in Manchester. The Manchester City football model harvests innumerable players, but precious few young English players will make it onto the roster in any decade. None will do so in a season when there is a perceived need for them to up their game. Pep will spend big this summer, Roberts’ opportunity to breakthrough in Manchester next season have diminished.
My first reaction at full time last night? Our chances of getting to keep Patrick increased. Which would be a very good thing, for both club and player.
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Big wavy
I should have added.. I felt same re Stokes v Hooper. Part of my thinking is invest in the player who is most likely to be the longer term option..
OG- looking at bribery of another manager here?
STARRY PLOUGH
Yes, which is why when JJ mentioned those dates it became interesting. But why bother mentioning them if he doesn’t know when they applied, and as you say most likely when laughing boy was the youth coach. All sound and fury
Turkeybhoy
No intention to be derogatory just expressing an opinion.
Erik is my preference from the three but lacks height.
I feel any of the three could play second fiddle but don’t boss it at higher level. As I say just an opinion.
BB
Stopped for lunch resumes 2pm
DAVIDOPOULOS on 16TH MARCH 2017 1:11 PM
Turkeybhoy on 16th March 2017 12:48 pm
It was in The Scotsman comments section.
Cheers Dessybhoy
!!BADA BING!!
I think what we know already is only the tip of the iceberg of the cheating over there, I think the scope and depth would be shocking should the real truth ever come out.
Hence the cover up..
Macjay1
I’ll cough to that, yes, i didn’t realise Neganon hadn’t addressed you directly. Apologies.You just can’t get the antennae these days!
However. . . .Some money they charge for their “self-deluded” services, eh?
Alan Dewar QC, representing Charles Green at the Inner House of the Court of Session, has stated that ” The Rangers football club does not exist, it is an idea in people’s minds, a myth of continuity. No-one knows what the Rangers football club is, but it has no legal personality.”
You don’t know yer basket of assets from yer elbow, Macjay.
YNRA.
And they’re off! So, so am I!
CULTSBHOY – BELIEVES IN BRENDAN on 16TH MARCH 2017 1:17 PM
Derogatory probably the wrong word.Apologies.
Cultsbhoy
I like LG, a lot. I’m in love with MD, a lot. I think we need to build a proposition that invests in any young talent that comes to the club and who grows whilst here. That will stand us in good stead and central to the decision that PR must make this summer.
Have you seen the Solanke geezer ? – Have a wee look on Youtube. Looks very good. I also thought Henry (they one that went AWOL) was a stick on too.
Beats burying our heads with images of Cifci and Carlton Cole :)
HH
Well written and Agreed ,James Forrest..
My disgust at the running of oldco,HBOS,the SMSM ,minty, the admin oversight by Sandy B & the SFA caused me to turn my back on footi a bit ,after 50 yrs..
I’m trying to find my way back but to be honest at times I feel a fool..
ITS frankly disgusting what is going on and the taxes have Never been paid..
HH
STARRY PLOUGH
The undisclosed recipients. What slimy creatures will emerge from under that particular stone
sevco’s two barristers putting a better shift today I see. We’er into the last quarter of the game now at 2pm
Missed the SCC this morn.
This guy provides a decent commentary via twitter
@mdkster
MWD
“Twas a morning in July, I was walking through Tipperary,
When I heard the battle cry from the mountains overhead…”
I probably should have been learning, ‘Colours of Day,’ or ‘Walk in the Light.’ In saying that as every Friday afternoon was given up for hymn singing practice with an angry priest who appeared to dislike us immensely, there was plenty of time for that. I can still sing the ‘Kyria Eleison’ and no wonder as that achievement took weeks upon weeks of the scary, shouty priest drilling it into us. Lord have Mercy! There was no ‘Golden Time’ for this 1970’s Bhoy who longed for that magical Friday afternoon bell, the euphoric release of joy as a tidal wave of north Airdrie Catholics was dangerously swept tsunami like toward the school exit. In among the tidal wave plans were drawn up for numerous football matches to be played on St. Serf’s park over the weekend. These would be punctuated with appearances at the chapel for confession, novena and mass-it’s the way it was.
Anyway, every Monday night for 4 weeks prior to my confirmation I’d walk to my Uncle Hugh’s in Holehills. This was only a half mile away-if you went the long way and stuck to the paths-but it was another scheme and in our small world at that time it felt like crossing a border and entering another country. Uncle Hugh was teaching me, ‘Irish Soldier Laddie,’ for my confirmation party. Never mind the Holy Spirit and finally being accepted by the Church despite so many previous appearances; family tradition was such that after your confirmation a rebel song was to be sung at the ‘party.’ My mother had chosen ‘Irish Soldier Laddie’ and she liked the way Hugh sung it. The die was cast. Four weeks of horrendous inner turmoil began and any thought about the religious aspects of confirmation were gone as I pictured myself in the centre of a room of nodding and foot tapping aunts and uncles with relentlessly sniggering cousins peeking in the door from the hall. The trouble was when I tried to sleep the aunts and uncles all had the same face-the angry priest!
I considered jumping the dyke and going to St Columba’s COS with my pal Stevie Truesdale. He was all for it because the BB football team were crap and I was rated locally as a player. He wasn’t sure though about my uniform being different to the rest of the ‘company’ and the flags and marching. Neither was I. Their team stayed crap but I admired Stevie’s honesty.
My uncle Hugh closed his eyes when he was singing and this brought me some comfort. If I didn’t
Look at them surely it would be better. This worked well when it was only me and him…
He introduced my aunt in week 2 to ‘listen.’ Now I had done very well learning the words and there was some sort of tune emanating from my young mouth however she was roaring and laughing. It turns out when I closed my eyes I turned up the volume with the singing and moved my head like Stevie Wonder on a waltzer. As entertaining as this was for Aunt Anna, Stevie Wonder had to go.
Two weeks to go.
Preparations were in full swing at school and my confirmation jotter was packed with drawings of biblical scenes (speaking in tongues was a tough one), prayers and explanations about our confirmation names. The criteria was ‘Saints names’ and although many of felt some Celtic players should be elevated to this status we were being watched closely. I pushed the boundaries a little opting for two names as I didn’t want to offend Mum or Dad. I chose Patrick Joseph after my two grandas. One was delighted as he was a daily mass goer and the other laughed as he ‘hadn’t darkened the door’ for years. It was a good choice.
One week to go…Dear God!
I wasn’t getting much sleep now, dreading the party and the guaranteed humiliation. What was wrong with adults? They did this at their own parties, their very own version of ‘circular death row’ awaiting their turn to sing. Smoking, drinking, dewy-eyed as the folk songs, rebel songs, country and western songs, obscure songs and Bowie! (Thanks Uncle Gerry and RIP) were sung well, poorly, slurred and shouted. All though were met with raucous applause as the haze of stage- smoke grew. None of the young team of cousins understood it and we retreated to the hallway and bedrooms with quarter filled cans of flat Tennents or even worse McEwans, smarting eyes and a longing for someone to discover passive smoking and sue the family.
On the final Monday rehearsal Hugh was brilliant. Reassuringly calm and composed as ever even though I just could not see myself doing it. I did know all the words, when to lower my voice in respect for the dead and when to raise it in triumph but this added to my woes. What if I got that wrong too on the night and sullied the memory of the Irish Rebel Heroes? This was getting worse. The good thing was there was only three more sleepless nights and then it would be all over…forever!
Confirmation fever had taken over the school and a couple of days before the main event the angry Parish priest inspected our confirmation jotters prior to another dose of hymn torture. The class was hushed as he entered. We were used to seeing him in the chapel and the school hall but he’d broken into our safe place now. He warned us within an inch our lives about letting everyone down we knew if our responses and hymn singing were not up to scratch and loud enough for Bishop Thomson to hear every word. We practiced and practiced but he still wasn’t happy as we were too loud. I was beginning to suspect if God was his pal then he wasn’t for me. He finally left just before the bell and a sigh of relief was collectively let out and that includes the teacher.
Confirmation eve was a boring whirlwind of rehearsals in the school and the chapel. This Bishop Thomson must be some man as everyone seemed terrified of upsetting him. The angry priest played the Bishop’s role sitting in the big chair at the front of the altar as the browbeaten teachers played our sponsors. I’m sure he smiled at me when I said my names…he couldn’t have, could he?
Uncle Hugh was waiting for me after school and attempted to calm my growing trepidation. He pointed up the hill to the chapel and said, “that’s what it’s all about, not the singing.’ I understood and anyway he promised to join in if I got stuck. He then threw in the clincher promising me my first live Celtic game if I did well. He was giving me a mixed message but it worked a treat. I wanted to know what game but realised that would come afterwards and he wasn’t a man to go back on his promises.
The heady day of confirmation was one of those bookmarked pages in your memory. Excitement, ceremony, faith and awe at the size of the Bishop especially with the miter on his head. He was a giant. He was posh compared to us and I knew he was getting a huge dinner at a fancy table in the chapel house after the ceremony. My mum was working at it and she showed us the huge table, all set with loads of cutlery and glasses. This was unusual for Rawyards, Thrashbush and Holehills…
I was first up at the post match party. The family were circled and I stool in the middle with my new found glow from the Holy Spirit like a Catholic Ready Brek kid. I belted out the song, I was loud, proud and far too bloody fast. The head nodding and toe tapping was in high speed as I rattled through verse one, two and the chorus. Thankfully something kicked in and I put the brakes on for the solemn verse 3 much to the relief of my relatives’ head, feet and ears. It was all over, they clapped and cheered and my cousins stared at the new me. Things were different now that I’d crossed the Rubicon and held my own. Relatives kept giving me money; Granda Paddy talked about the Holy Spirit and auld Joe laughed at the rebel song. I was looking for Hugh.
He was having a fag at his back door-he was ahead of his time with passive smoking. He told me I did very well and he didn’t mention the high speed and volume I ‘sang’ at. He gave me a holy medal, 50p and a precious promise that if Celtic reached the cup final ‘you’re going.’ Filled with the Holy Spirit, a sense of relief and the promise of a cup final for my first game, sleep arrived about a minute before my mum got me up for school. However things were on the up and Friday hymn singing was cancelled too, the Holy Spirit was some guy.
Celtic made it to the 1975 Cup Final; Hugh kept his word and a fellow traveller to the final was the angry priest who actually was alright once you got to know him. A convoy of cars left the chapel car park in Airdrie supporting the Celts against the Diamonds, that’s another story.
“Will ye march with O’Neill to an Irish battle field?
For tonight we go to free old Wexford town!”
My preference as striker is LG, and I think after his last two appearances of they bench he should be awarded a start against Dundee on Sat, that’s only my opinion.
“I’d be starting Dembele for 20mins on his Todd.. Bringing LG on after 20..play both for 50mins them letting Leighton finish last 20 on his own.”
Cultsbhoy,
That’s just pure fifa.
The game, not the governing body. :)
HH
O.G.RAFFERTY
The creatures from The Blue Lagoon:))
Playing catch up after a few shifts on Mars…
What’s the story behind aunt Agatha comments?
Tia & HH
MYBOYSNOWATIM on 16th March 2017 12:45 pm
The aftersales service from Ducati Glasgow is spot on.
I bought 2 Monsters at the same time – the Monster Dark (821) and the Monster 1200S. Entirely different bikes. The Dark has run like a dream since day 1.
However, there was an issue with the 1200s. Ducati arranged it being picked up from my house and taken to the shop for it to be looked at; they worked on it and I collected it. I wasn’t happy with the way it ran on the return home (5 o’clock on a Friday), so they picked it up at 10:00am on the Saturday to work on it again.
They actually stripped components out of their test machine and replaced them bit by bit till they identified the issue. They got a replacement part from Ducati in Italy and fixed it; it has run like a dream since. (All original components were put back on my bike).
Also got sent a very smart (and fairly expensive) Ducati watch to thank me for my patience!
Both bikes have been serviced there and I have absolutely no complaints whatsoever. Martin and Kerry are great to deal with and nothing seems to be too much trouble.
I’d absolutely recommend them.
KTF
STARRY PLOUGH
Excellent. In all its 3D glory (Red, Whyte and Blue glasses format)
Some chap getting undressed there.
Well ,a tenner EW on Isleofhopeanddreams.All in.12 to 1.
Short sleeved shirt. Must be there to look after the IT. It’s the only rational explanation.
TONYDONNELLY67 on 16TH MARCH 2017 1:52 PM
My preference as striker is LG, and I think after his last two appearances of they bench he should be awarded a start against Dundee on Sat, that’s only my opinion.
One I share.
I`ve seen many online items showing how the entire Media of Scotland reacted to Rangers going into Liquidation: 140 years of history gone. R.I .P Rangers etc . What I haven`t seen is how that same media changed its story to the Same Club narrative. Did they just ignore what they had previously reported or did they say they had been wrong and that Rangers still existed after all?
JJ
@Davidopoulos on 16th March 2017 1:11 pm et alia
“racial group” means a group of persons defined by reference to race, colour, nationality (including citizenship) or ethnic or national origins
It is ‘Racially-aggravated Harassment’ covered by Criminal Law (Consolidation) (Scotland) Act 1995 c. 39 Part VI Section 50A paragraphs (1) thru (6) to call someone an “Irish […]” or any other nationality for that matter, if it is intended as deliberate harassment.
http://www.legislation.gov.uk/ukpga/1995/39/section/50A
http://www.legislation.gov.uk/ukpga/1995/39/section/50A
Mon The Hoops! on 16th March 2017 2:09 pm
Yes, that’s the definition I was thinking of. So it does apply in Scotland.
Hmm.
JJ,
Imo, all the stuff pre liquidation was just a call to arms to seek out the real ranjurs men to save the club.
When it failed, some ignored and some chose not to approach the subject in a truthful manner through fear.
HH
Thornhill QC arguing side payments were benefits in kind, not salary, states Club couldn’t have afforded salary. Clear sporting advantage in a nutshell.
Geordie Munro,
Aunt Agatha is a mythical character, created by Mr. Thornhill to base a hypothetical case upon.
Thomthetim,
Cheers neebs
HH
Afternoon awe rarely post these days
Tho something caught my eye today
Tommy McLean and his ebt from ibrox
From 1996 to 1998 when he was Dundee United manager
Surely this is not allowed under fifa rules
It stinks to high heaven
Anyone got the results between the two teams
It would be interesting to say the least
Sheik,
Tommy McLean was a director of youth development at ibrox in 2001.
HH
SP- i fear you are right, the cover up and shredding goes back to an under qualified ex hun player getting a top job at the SFA, then getting a top job under Craig Whyte.It will need a hack like David Conn or Alex Thomson to get interested again HH
Thom
I said a month or so back that it all depends on who loses out if Hector wins the huns EBT case, if those and such as those were to lose squillions, Hector will lose the case, end of.
Just the way it is mi amigo as you well know.
HH
Geordie- important to pin down the date on McLeans EBT…HH