The Clumpany hopes that you are all well and had a great Christmas.
Yesterday’s Boxing Day party at Clumpany Towers went off very well indeed. Sadly, we couldn’t tempt Car Park Man indoors no matter how many times we reassured him that all my copies of the Offshore Game report had been sealed up in a reinforced concrete bunker 100 feet below Clumpany Towers.
There certainly a lot of mulled wine consumed at the gathering. Or rather a lot of mulling and whining about the distance between Sevco and Celtic was rammed down my throat. Nevertheless, in between the complaints, it was interesting to hear what Christmas presents the assembled press pack had been given.
Everyone had received new mobile phones which only allow calls to and from Jim Traynor, and which come equipped with handcuffs so that the journalists can never be out of reach. What a thoughtful gift!
One chap had received a special “Bullshit Lies” edition of Scrabble. This has different quantities of each letter of the alphabet compared to ordinary Scrabble, and the winner is the person who plays the words “sameclub” and “oldfirm” the most.
Another journalist apparently had a blazing row with his other half after receiving classic board game ‘Monopoly’. He accused his partner of goading him about Celtic’s dominance and scribbled ‘Duopoly’ all over the box lid using his own blood!
I almost felt sorry for the chap who had received a 180g vinyl LP entitled “Family-Friendly Songs From The Ibrox Crowd”. He spent ages setting up the turntable, replacing the stylus and positioning the speakers for maximum impact only to find the record was completely blank!
But others were happier with their Christmas experience. One spoke very favourably of the turkey (or a ‘Rangers* Petrofac Glory’ DVD to give it its correct title), and one particularly staunch journo took it quite well when the joke he received in his cracker turned out to be a copy of Joey Barton’s Sevco contract.
However, the most heartwarming tale I heard was from the scribe who made the Queen’s Speech that little bit more special. Apparently they respectfully stuck a picture of Dave King’s face over Her Majesty’s, wore a Sevco scarf and drooled.
Fair play to him, that’s top-drawer misguided and unquestioning loyalty.
I wonder how he managed to get a job on the Scottish sports desks?