Alan’s Adventures, Celtic, Media, Satire, Scottish Football, Sevco



Good Evening.

The Clumpany had a call from my pal Alan earlier today. It was good to hear from him as I haven’t seen him in ages… He had just been out shopping and wanted to tell me about a ‘scene’ he’d seen unfolding in a Glasgow toy shop involving one of the Scottish press pack’s finest and an unfortunate shop assistant…


Journalist: “Hi. I’ve come for a refund. I’ve got a faulty product.”

Shop Assistant: “What appears to be the problem, Sir?”

Journalist: “I’ve just told you. I got something a while back and it doesn’t work properly. I want my money back, please.”

Shop Assistant: “OK Sir. Have you got the receipt?”

Journalist: “No. I bought it in 2012, or was it 1872? I can never tell the difference. You don’t expect me to keep a receipt that long do you? Anyway, the main point is that I only just got round to playing with it, and I can’t believe that the first time it was out of the  box it was broken. I need a refund and I need it now.”

Shop Assistant: “Well Sir, it will be difficult to offer a refund after all this time without a receipt. Still, you are a Scottish football journalist so maybe you’ll think that people being left out of pocket through no fault of their own is no biggie. In fact it’s probably best left not mentioned ever again. I am sure I read that in a newspaper. Or did I hear it on the radio? Who knows.”

Journalist: “Are you trying to be clever?”

Shop Assistant: “Of course not Sir. I’m just saying that we may not be able to help you without a receipt, and you may have to accept that.”

Journalist: “Look. Let me tell you about this disgraceful shoddy thing I bought. I am sure you will agree there is no excuse for not giving me a refund.”

Shop Assistant: “OK Sir. What is the problem?”

Journalist: “It’s this bloody board game ‘Cluedo’. It doesn’t work.” [*Opens box and empties contents on to counter*]

Shop Assistant: [*Rummaging through the items*] “Are you sure, Sir? I know ‘Cluedo’ very well. I’ve played it ever since I was little and now my kids love it. And I can tell you with absolute confidence that everything that is supposed to be in the box is present and correct. You Sir are the owner of ‘Cluedo’ perfection.”

Journalist: “What are you talking about? It’s faulty.”

Shop Assistant: “Is the problem perhaps that you misunderstood the rules?”

Journalist: “Look, I’m not an idiot. [*Pauses*] Did you just roll your eyes?”

Shop Assistant: “Absolutely not, Sir.”

Journalist: “Good. I’m not an idiot and I know fine well that in ‘Cluedo’ you have to identify the perpetrator of the crime, the crime scene, and the weapon that was used.”

Shop Assistant: “Congratulations, Sir.”

Journalist: “Look, I don’t like your attitude. Don’t you know who I am?”

Shop Assistant: “I certainly do Sir, and I am being appropriately respectful.”

Journalist: “Oh. Good. I think…”

Shop Assistant: “So the board game has all the pieces it should, and you know all the rules. I am still struggling to see the problem.”

Journalist: “OK let me explain to you what happened when me and my journalist pals tried to play this so-called ‘game’ over a few beers.”

Shop Assistant: “Please do.”

Journalist: “Aye. Well we were having a quiet one with pizza and a couple of cases of beer. And someone spotted ‘Cluedo’ on the shelf…”

Shop Assistant: “Did anyone do the ‘I would have expected you to be ‘Clue-less’ joke, Sir?”

Journalist: “You’re doing it again aren’t you?”

Shop Assistant: “Of course not, Sir. ‘Politeness’ is my middle name. Well one of my middle names. The other one is ‘Gullible’.”

Journalist: “Really?! That’s amazing! I bet most people don’t believe that when you tell them. But I think it’s brilliant. Really unusual!”

Shop Assistant: “Dear God. Someone shoot me now… Sorry Sir, I interrupted your story about the faulty ‘Cluedo’.”

Journalist: “Yes, well. I got the game off the shelf and set it up. We were about to start when the other three journalists all shouted out ‘I know! I know whodunnit! It was the Celtic fan, in Alfredo Morelos’s car park, with the wire cutters’. I don’t mind telling you I was p*ssed off because I was going to guess that too. They beat me to it.”

Shop Assistant: “I still don’t see how the game is faulty, Sir.”

Journalist: “I haven’t got to that bit yet. I’m just setting the scene,”

Shop Assistant: “I see… Do carry on. Only can you please hurry up because the queue for the tills is now stretching down the street…”

Journalist: “What like when Rangers* season tickets go on sale at Ibrox?”

Shop Assistant: “No Sir. Not like that. I can definitely see this queue of real people.. Can you get to the point please?”

Journalist: “Fine. I will. No the real problem wasn’t that the lads guessed before me. The problem was that when we looked at the cards it said that Professor Plum had done it, with the candlestick, in the library.”

Shop Assistant: “Yes that sounds plausible…”

Journalist: “What do you mean? We looked through the rest of the ‘Cluedo’ cards of all the people who could possibly be responsible for crimes in Cluedo and not one of them was a Celtic fan. There was a Reverend Green, but he’ll not be a Celtic fan. Father Green, yes, probably. But not Reverend Green. In fact I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s a staunch friend of the Rangers* directors. Anyway, what sort of crime-based board game doesn’t pin the blame on Celtic fans? Me and my journalist pals aren’t used to having to discount various possibilities and weigh up the evidence and probabilities before making a reasoned judgement. ‘Where there’s crime, there’s a Celtic line’ – that should be our motto! We can’t be doing with not skipping straight to deciding that a Celtic fan must have done wrong. This board game is clearly faulty and I WANT MY MONEY BACK NOW.”

Shop Assistant: [*Long astonished silence*] “Are you for real, Sir?”

Journalist: “No. I’m for the Rangers*”

Shop Assistant: “So you definitely aren’t for anything real then…”

Journalist: “Look, I’ve had enough of your rudeness. Are you going to give me my money back?”

Shop Assistant: “No.”

Journalist: “Get me the manager.”

Shop Assistant: “Very well, Sir. [*Presses button for shop speakers*] “Tills calling the manager. Tills calling the manager. Can Miss Scarlett please come to the tills to speak with a customer…?”


NB Remember folks, it’s just a bit of satirical fun…


Celtic, Scottish Football

RIP Billy McNeill: Our Hero


Reposted on this very sad day. Farewell to a legend, hero and (most importantly) a fine and thoroughly decent man. Gone, but never to be forgotten. RIP Billy McNeill. Mr Celtic.

The Clumpany

Good Evening.

The Clumpany has not been in a position to try your patience with regular blogs in recent times.

And I wasn’t going to say anything in blog form about the unveiling of the Billy McNeill statue today, because far more articulate folk than me can better-express the significance of the occasion.

But then I saw the range and depth-of-feeling of the comments from all sorts of folk, and I concluded that I should say something. Because today’s unveiling really means something to the likes of me: an ordinary punter who loves Celtic and the game in which they play.

And if nothing else, the example of the Lions – a bunch of local lads who came together and were sparked to greatness (by a genius of a manager) – shows that even apparently-humble folk can be worthy of note.

So here is my little observation…

Doing justice to…

View original post 336 more words

Celtic, Satire

Long Live The King

Good Evening.

The Clumpany hears tidings of a major disturbance in Leicester in recent days.

Archaeologists report that the late King of England Richard III – who was much maligned by Shakespeare and eventually found buried under a Leicester car park in 2012 before being reinterred in the local Cathedral – has been on the move again!

Apparently the Cathedral clergy were shocked to find his tomb disturbed, with the monument moved and his coffin broken open. They immediately called in the local archaeologists who were familiar with the remains of the last Plantagenet King.

Sadly, the experts were at a loss to explain what had happened. Their initial suspicion of grave robbing was quickly ruled out when they confirmed that the coffin had been broken open from the INSIDE in (possibly) some sort of ironic tribute to Rangers* ‘coming’ again.

However, thankfully the answer eventually came when new Leicester City manager Brendan Rodgers held court at a local arena and informed the public – including a number of those local archaeologists – that he’d been informed by his staff that “Richard III wants a word with you.”

Brendan Rodgers apparently awaited the knock on his office door, and when it came, he invited Richard III to sit down.

Knowing his place, the one-time sovereign King of England said how pleased he was to meet Brendan Rodgers.

Richard III didn’t fancy Celtic to beat both Hearts and Hibs away within the space of a few days without Brendan Rodgers at the helm…

“Ooft, I’m pleased to meet you too Richard.” Brendan said in reply. “What can I do for you?”

“Well I didn’t want to just lay here in regal repose.” said Richard III.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted me here in Leicester” said Richard III.

And then the heroic, history-minded new Leicester manager replied “Listen Richard, as long as I’m here, you’re here”.

Whereupon the audience clapped at the magic of Brendan Rodgers…

Meanwhile… 😉


NB Remember folks, it’s just a bit of satirical fun after a trying week…

Celtic, Scottish Football, Sevco

An End-Of-Year Rant

Good Evening.

I would just to take this opportunity to wish the eternally patient readers of this increasingly intermittent blog a very happy New Year.

Personally, The Clumpany goes into the New Year feeling somewhat downbeat.

Heaven knows what 2019 is going to bring. The looming spectre of Brexit seems like a particularly dangerous and unnecessary leap into the dark/ abyss, which could have all manner of highly unfortunate consequences.

Then again it might deliver a bright new future with jam for tea for everyone.



From a footballing perspective, Celtic’s erratic form is a worry. Especially as some of it is self-inflicted courtesy of a very poor approach to transfers over the summer. And of course, as I explained previously, no one can ever be happy about losing a game to the sporting and societal embarrassment that is Sevco FC.

However, such concerns can be easily offset by Celtic’s unprecedented run of trophy winning success over the past two years, the club’s position at the top of the league, the prospect of post-Christmas European football, and the opportunity to put things right in the January transfer window.

No, the reason I feel a bit downbeat about football at the moment is the intensifying barrage of paedophile-related f*ckwittery that can be seen and heard in Premiership grounds and across all social media platforms. Notably in places where Sevco fans happen to be in attendance.

I’ve made my views about this issue very clear on previous occasions, most comprehensively in the below blog, where I stated without ambiguity that anyone responsible for child abuse or for covering it up should be brought before the courts and subjected to due process. No ifs, no buts, and no excuses.

A Blog About Child Abuse

No one in their right mind could argue with the sentiments of that piece.

However, folk with few morals and no respect for other people still often think it is hilarious to ignore the feelings of victims and their families, and to forget about the right of people to a fair trial.

What sort of absolute scum spends their free time making a banner to point-score about child abuse, and to attack a dead man who never faced sanctions and who obviously cannot defend himself? How disgusting would you have to be to use people’s suffering as a means of making a jibe?

You can imagine such roasters arriving home after a game:

Billie: “Hi Billy. How was the match?”

Billy: “Brilliant love. Trampled all over the memory of a dead man, upset his living relatives and hopefully gave some child abuse victims flashbacks!”

Billie: “Sounds great Billy? What was the score?”

Billy: “No idea Billie. But I put the tarrier paedo filth in their place with my banner!”

Is there any hope for these people? Or for a better atmosphere at games? [NB Yes I know that no fan base is perfect – to put it mildly. And there is (for example) a list of songs sung by Celtic supporters that the game could do without hearing again.]

I don’t hold out much hope.

Nor do I expect the scourge of anti-Irish racism to disappear from our game any time soon.

It increasingly seems that songs about ‘going home’ and ‘Fenian blood’ can be sung by large numbers of people with impunity and with little or no resulting condemnation from those who really ought to know better.

Strict liability would be one way of combatting anti-Irish racism in Scottish football. Assuming that those designing and enforcing the rules could agree that anti-Irish racism exists, and then had acute enough hearing to actually notice it being sung by thousands of people.

[*Pause for tumbleweed*]

However, as I have said before, I see no point in trying to impose strict liability in Scottish football until such time as we can be confident that it would be enforced consistently. Sadly, even a cursory look at player disciplinary cases and still-recent innovations such as ‘conditional membership’ and ‘imperfect registration’ suggest that the rule book in Scottish football can be a highly moveable feast.

In that context, why on Earth should clubs put more power to selectively impose sanctions in the hands of the authorities at Hampden?

However even if we don’t have strict liability, anti-Irish racism can still be identified, called out and addressed by individual clubs, politicians, the police, the press, and those who have publicly taken it upon themselves to combat racism in football.

All of these groups have questions to answer about their approach to anti-Irish racism and I encourage you to ask them about it when you get the opportunity.

On which note, I see there has been a good deal of online commentary of late about the position of Show Racism The Red Card Scotland in relation to anti-Irish racism (as opposed to other forms of racism). As such I will sign off by restating the questions that I asked of them on Twitter yesterday:

I wish you all the very best for 2019. May your Buckie always come with bleach.

Happy New Year!


Celtic, Media, Satire, Scottish Football, Sevco

How To Celebrate A Sevco Victory

Good Evening.

Overheard in a pub a short while ago. Possibly.

Celtic fan #1: “F*ck me. That’s embarrassing. Shocking from Celtic. I can’t believe we lost to the new club. What the f*ck has the board been playing at? And what about the manager and players? Do they think that’s acceptable?”

Celtic fan #2: “I know mate. Disgraceful stuff. The pressure is on now to sort the side out for the rest of the season.”

Celtic fan #3: “Aye, we are still top, we won the League Cup and we are still in Europe, but FFS we will never hear the end of it. Lawwell and Rodgers better get things sorted for the rest of the season.”

Meanwhile, over in another corner of the pub, the chat is also all about football… 😉

Sevco fan #1: “F*cking brilliant. We showed those b*stard paedo Tarrier f*ckers why they should go home!”

Sevco fan #2 “Spot on. Fenian b*stards. They are a f*cking stain on society. We showed them. Dave King is definitely bringing us 55. They won’t be able to handle it. The smelly mhanky bheasts!”

Sevco fan #3 “Well said mate. We are The People and they are sub f*cking human. This is our country and they should know their place! The Gaffer is going to be a legend when he delivers 55! F*ck Brenda Rodgers”

Sevco fan #1: “Brenda? F*cking brilliant mate! The Tarriers don’t have banter like that!”

And in a reserved area of the pub there were a few Scottish football journalists…

Journo #1: “Fantastic game yesterday. Brilliant result! It’s like David Murray never left Ibrox!”

Journo #2: “Usually I pretend he hasn’t! But yeah, it’s absolutely f*cking fantastic!” [*Rubs self uncomfortably*]

Journo #3: “Are you OK mate? Only you look like you are in pain.”

Journo #2: “Well I overdid the celebrations yesterday.”

Journo #3: “How do you mean? You are rubbing your [*cough*] groin area FFS!”

Journo #2: “Aye well I might have accidentally rubbed all the skin off my c*ck in the excitement.”

Journo #1: “F*ck, I’m glad it’s not just me! I’ve been in agony all day, but have been trying to hide it!”

Journo #2: “Good to know you are on board! How about you pal? Any chafing after the big win?”

Journo #3: “Bloody hell. Some of us have been around long enough to still have our Rangers* 9-in-a-row lubricant when required. It’s all about keeping your dignity. No chafing or blisters here. And look how smooth my hands are as well…”



NB Remember folks, it’s just a bit of (admittedly tasteless) satirical fun…


RIP Celtic Football Club 2016-18

Good Evening.

Let’s be clear about something. No one in their right mind wants to see a football ‘club’ or fan base that laughs in the face of 276 creditors, and every single tax payer in the United Kingdom be successful.

No one wants to see triumphs going to a ‘football club’ or fan base for whom rules and insolvency laws are a moveable feast as long as a junkie-like craving to wallow in a baseless superiority complex is satisfied.

And no one with a shred of decency in them wants to see people who revel in gloating about child abuse or a famine enjoy any sort of happiness in their lives.

Moreover, no one with any sentience in their brain or regard for the very notions of rational thought and the written or spoken word wants to see the liquidation-denying charlatans of the Scottish sports media – who would rather utter pandering ‘Rangers’ shite than touch an actual story – enjoying themselves.

But fair play to them and Sevco. Their lads won yesterday.

It happens.

I suspect they will all now go forward and become even worse than ever. Their long-established ability to suck the life out of our national sport, society and public discourse intensifying as they sniff an opportunity to continue harming football and the world around them while ultimately ensuring their own long-term disappointment and irrelevance.

Let’s take a moment to pity them, and then leave them to it.

As for Celtic, yesterday ended the first phase of the Brendan Rodgers era in no uncertain terms. It looked finished after the club’s shambolic exit from the Champions League qualifiers a few months ago, following an utterly inexcusable transfer window. However, Rodgers and the players brilliantly pulled themselves together. The club currently sits at the top of the league with a game in hand, a record-equalling trophy in the cabinet and post-Christmas European football to come.

As noted philosopher Roy Walker might say: “it’s good, but it’s not right”. The Celtic that won a double Treble and then a further trophy has run out of road. As Rodgers rightly stated yesterday, it is time to hit the reset button.

New players and a shake up are required. And that includes Brendan taking a long hard look at his selections and tactics, but more importantly the board asking themselves [*sigh*] again, if they are really doing all they can to back a very high quality manager who is enjoying an unprecedented streak of success.

It’s time to consign the seven successive trophies to the past. An augmented and rejuvenated new Celtic needs to start afresh after the winter break.

No excuses and no messing about Celtic. Get it done.


Celtic, Hibernian, Neil Lennon, Scottish Football

In Defence Of Neil Lennon

Good Evening.

The title of this blog is a lie.
I have no defence of Neil Lennon to offer.
Do you know why?
Because no defence is required.
The familiar“he brings it on himself” argument is currently being deployed following a coin striking the Hibernian manager last night. This is – of course – a suggestion that has been repeatedly made following Neil Lennon receiving numerous threats through the post, and being abused and physically assaulted by the side of the pitch.
And it is utter bullsh*t of the highest order. No one deserves what Neil Lennon has had to endure over the years as a player or manager. Or indeed as a human being.
Let me just stop you there if you are about to claim that Neil Lennon celebrating or savouring a moment on a football pitch is somehow a justification for some or all of the abuse that he has been receiving for many years. Because there are no excuses for what Neil Lennon has had to put up with. His religion, nationality, footballing career and allegiances are utterly immaterial.
The facts are very simple. If you are abusing or threatening Neil Lennon as the coin-throwers, pitch-side assaulters, racism-shouters and device-senders have been doing for many years, then you are an absolute disgrace to the very concepts of humanity and morality. What’s more, you also embarrass whatever warped sense of superiority over Neil Lennon and his religion, ethnicity and footballing background that you somehow manage to cling to as you try to survive the modern world.
So let us be very clear. The ‘problem with Neil Lennon’ isn’t Neil Lennon’s problem at all.
It is the problem of the intolerant and the narrow minded.
Not that they have the intelligence or respect for their fellow man to realise this…