Media, Satire, Scottish Football, SFA

Stewart Regan: It’s Time To Go


Good Afternoon.

The Clumpany notes that at least one of the papers has finally decided it is time for Stewart Regan – one-time Orville to Campbell Ogilvie’s Keith Harris – to leave the SFA.

We all know that the Scottish sports media likes to confront the big issues. So I wouldn’t be surprised to see this ‘piece’ published tomorrow…


Crunch Time: Why Regan Has To Resign

The SFA’s beleaguered Chief Executive has gone too far. He is clearly the wrong man for the job and should clear his desk.

By H. Owling

This paper believes in giving everyone a chance, and has no doubt that Stewart Regan is a decent man whose heart is in the right place. He has overseen Scottish football during a tumultuous time which would have crushed lesser cricket administrators, and has clearly been committed to his job.

However, we cannot in all good conscience stand by and see calamity unfold on his watch. This paper therefore says that Regan’s time is up!

It is one thing to have problems recruiting a new Scotland manager. We’ve all been there. However, it is quite another to take the last Chocolate Digestive from the biscuit plate during an informal meeting with our top team over coffee.

Yes, that is correct. There has been a harrowing Chocolate Digestive incident.

It was certainly nice of Mr Regan to invite us over to Hampden for an off-the-record chat about the continuing search for the next Scotland manager following Michael O’Neill’s decision to reject the SFA’s advances. We will always listen to what Regan has to say, and if he’s prepared to type out the words for us too, we might just slap them in the paper unedited.

It was also welcome that Mr Regan made the comfy chairs available to us during the meeting. What’s more, his subsequent decision 30 minutes later to invite us to actually sit on them was a credit to him.

His hospitality reached truly standing ovation-worthy levels when he asked a colleague to bring in the biggest plate of biscuits you have ever seen. Our top team had never previously experienced such a bounty of biscuits! Not wishing to offend our host, we tucked in while Mr Regan wittered on “blah blah blah blah blah…”

At great length – and with expanded waistlines – the biscuit plate was reduced to four Rich Tea biscuits and a solitary Chocolate Digestive. Mr Regan, who had not drawn breath for quite some time, and who had not touched the delightful light refreshments, finished his monologue with a flourish of  self-congratulatory “blah blah blahs”, took a sip of his now-cold coffee and – without so much as a by your leave – picked up the final chocolate digestive.

This shameful display shocked our top team, who sat open-mouthed and drooling as Mr Regan greedily and selfishly devoured that biscuit in a manner that was clearly calculated to mock us. In an effort to maintain the sort of decorum which was clearly beyond Mr Regan, we did not scream “oi that was my biscuit you greedy b*stard” in his face. Instead, we stated that we had no questions for him and left at great speed, pausing only to run back in from the car park to grab the remaining Rich Tea biscuits.

This kind of affront to our national sport has to stop. Scottish football deserves better than having the last Chocolate Digestive whisked away from it.

Mr Regan may have helped to save* Rangers, and he may run the fairest, most widely-respected governing body in the whole of sport, but that counts for nothing when biscuit greed is allowed to run amok.

This paper will always make the big calls when necessary. Stewart Regan has clearly proven himself unfit for the office he holds, and we call on him to go with immediate effect.

Hopefully leaving a big packet of Chocolate Digestives for his replacement to feed us with.


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


Satire, Scottish Football, SFA

Alex McLeish Isn’t Desperate

Good Evening.

I had a call from my good pal Alan today. It was nice to hear from him as I haven’t seen him in ages. 😉

He was excited because he had seen Alex McLeish as he was walking past Hampden Park, and he wanted to tell me about a conversation he’d overheard between McLeish and a passing football fan.

Alan said he was happy for me to pass on the details to the Clumping community on strict condition that I made it absolutely clear that McLeish is NOT desperate to be the next Scotland manager.


Fan: “Hi Alex. Good to see you! You here at Hampden for an interview to be the next Scotland manager?”

McLeish: “Errr no. I was just passing. Although I am open to the idea of doing the job again.”

Fan: “Only I have seen you all over the papers talking about it..”

McLeish: Being in all the papers talking about a magnificent post that any Scot would be proud to fill does not mean I really want it. I am simply open to the idea.”

Fan: “But you must fancy it? All that travel, prestige and the big salary!”

McLeish:I wouldn’t describe myself as closed to the idea. In fact I am open to it.”

Fan: “And then there’s your EBT tax bill to pay. That must be a good few quid. A tidy number like the Scotland job would be a godsend for you right now wouldn’t it?”

McLeish: [*Glares*]

Fan: “Ach, I’m only joking big man. The club probably indemnified you against the bill didn’t they? Not that terrible holding company thing . But you must be quite tempted to replace wee Gordon? In fact I can’t blame you for being well up for it!”

McLeish: “I wouldn’t say I was up for it. Or down.”

Fan:Of course not. You’ve done ‘down’ before though, haven’t you? Heading down south, for example, to take the Birmingham job when you were manager of that northern place… What was it called? Ah yes! Scotland! When you were manager of Scotland.”

McLeish: “I’ve moved around and I am always open to possibilities. Such as being the manager of Scotland.”

Fan:Admit it man! You’re desperate for that job! You can’t wait to start!”

McLeish: “I’m not desperate. I am merely open to the possibility of taking the role if asked. I am quite relaxed about it.”

Fan: I see you are wearing a full Scotland kit and carrying bagpipes outside Hampden, Alex. You are really keen aren’t you?”

McLeish: “I’m not keen. But I am certainly open to the truly wonderful post should it be presented to me like manna from Heaven.”

Fan: “So what’s with the outfit then? You look like you are embarrassing yourself in a shameless bid to get the top job.”

McLeish: This outfit? Oh this is just the first thing I grabbed out of the wardrobe this morning. It isn’t trying to issue a forlorn plea to the wonderful SFA Board to come and get me.”

Fan: “Are you certain about that?”

McLeish: “Of course. Although I remain open to all managing-Scotland possibilities.”

Fan: “So that wasn’t you polishing Stewart Regan’s car this morning?”

McLeish: “I am open to polishing Scotland’s fortunes and getting them to Euro 2020.”

Fan: “And that wasn’t you throwing rose petals in front of Rod Petrie and Alan McRae as they walked through the car park earlier?”

McLeish:I am open to helping Scotland to come up smelling of roses. If asked.”

Fan: “So you are absolutely, definitely, NOT desperate to become Scotland manager and will NOT publicly embarrass yourself in pursuit of the job, Alex?”

McLeish: “Absolutely not”.

Fan: “So it will be no biggie if the SFA tells you to p*ss off and gives the job to Malky Mckay on a permanent basis instead?”

And at that point, it turned out that Alex McLeish WAS open to crying like a baby in public…


Let’s all thank Alan for the update!


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

Celtic, Media, Satire, Scottish Football, SFA

Brendan Rodgers: Scotland Manager

Good Evening.

Have you ever wondered what the next step up from ‘clickbait’ might be when it comes to the output of the Scottish sports media?

I have. And today I think I may have found an answer.

The answer appears to be “unadulteratedly embarrassing shite”. 😉

And here it is…

SFA should ask Celtic boss Brendan Rodgers if he wants the Scotland job

In which Scott McDermott throws out a few names for the extremely uncoveted role of international stunt man prepared to take a fall for the SFA one day. A post which is also known as “The Scotland Football Manager”.

Mr McDermott’s list – if you can attribute such systematic thinking to the piece – includes a variety of familiar, exotic, edgy and clearly unattainable names.

The latter category includes someone who ends up being the heart of the attempted article: a certain undefeated treble-winning, twice-Champions League-qualifying Celtic manager who also has credentials from English Premier League clubs.

Yes, that’s right. The piece says some random stuff about how it wouldn’t hurt the SFA to try asking Brendan Rodgers about doing the Scotland job alongside the Celtic responsibilities to which he appears deeply committed, and to which he seems to recommit on an almost hourly basis!


Well, Mr McDermott, let us note the following:

  • Brendan Rodgers’ employers have multiple reasons (both contractual and in terms of a shameful lack of even-handed governance) to tell the SFA to fuck off as far as possible and then a bit further; and
  • Brendan himself has some modicum of ambition beyond being the next blazer-wearing scapegoat for years of failure by the SFA’s international side…

And let us therefore conclude that you really would be just as well printing a picture of Mr Spoon – noted traveller to Button Moon – in your paper and explaining why there is no harm in asking him to do the job instead. After all, he might accept, and he might be brilliant at it.

What’s the harm in asking, eh?

Alternatively, perhaps we could ask a VHS cassette of the film ‘Braveheart’ to be the next Scotland manager? Sure, it might be a bit old-school and rough around the edges, but you couldn’t fault the passion that it would put on display. Assuming you could find a VHS player…

There’s no harm in asking the VHS cassette there?

Then again, maybe the Dark Lord Sauron could be approached? Yes he is a fictional character, and yes he did once come a cropper merely by virtue of a ring being cut off his finger. But he’s a ‘name’ isn’t he? Look at the alternatives! Gollum? Frodo Baggins? Elves? Surely Sauron is the man to ask about being the next Scotland manager?

What’s the worst he could do? Try and lay waste to a fictitious land like others have tried to trash a sport through imperfectly registered players?

I am sure you will agree that there is no harm in asking Sauron whether he fancies the job…

Of course, the other option available to the Sunday Mail in its search for a column inch-filling ‘solution’ to Scotland’s managerial vacancy might be to simply print a picture of a pile of manure (the bigger and more steaming the better) and ask its readers “do you smell shite?”.

Some sort of meaningful insight is bound to result from the debate on such an appropriately-framed question.

Isn’t it?


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

Satire, Scottish Football, SFA

An Exclusive Interview With Stewart Regan

Good Evening.

Stewart Regan undertook some media engagements this morning. In them, he commented upon the SFA’s refusal to engage with a requested review into the governance of Scottish football in recent years.

Afterwards, Mr Regan didn’t sit down for a chat with The Clumpany.

However, had he done so, it might have gone something like this…


TC:“So Mr Regan, why on Earth would you reject a request on behalf of the senior league clubs in Scotland to participate in an independent review of how the game has been governed during one of the most tumultuous periods in its genuine, non-bought history?”

Regan:“It would be ridiculous to suggest a conspiracy.”

TC:“No one suggested a conspiracy Mr Regan. The SPFL requested an independent review of various matters of governance as a way of learning lessons and safeguarding against future events.”

Regan:“I am sorry, but you have no proof that we are hiding the existence of the Loch Ness Monster to protect the SFA.”

TC:“Did I mention the Loch Ness Monster, Mr Regan?”

Regan:“And the SFA is not covering up anything to do with the Roswell Incident in 1947. We behaved in an entirely proper way during that period.”

TC:“The Roswell Incident is entirely irrelevant here although I suspect Billy Davies blames it in some way for him still being out of football management. Anyway, about that review of the governance of the national sport of Scotland for which you have responsibility…”

Regan:“I am sorry, but I really must stop you there. I have never stood on a knoll – grassy or otherwise. To link me or the SFA to the sad demise of President John F. Kennedy is absolutely outrageous.”

TC:“But I didn’t do that. I simply wanted to ask why you don’t want to engage with a transparent exercise which will address any wrongdoing in the past, and reassure everyone that Scottish football will be fair in the future.”

Regan:“There you go again. I can reassure you that no one on the SFA Board is a malevolent shape-shifting lizard in disguise. It is scandalous to suggest otherwise.”

TC:“Is that an ultraviolet lamp you are sitting under, Mr Regan?”

Regan:“What? No. It’s… err… just ambient lighting that suits my complexion. Have you tried living in Scotland with its terrible sunlight? But anyway, how dare you suggest that Campbell Ogilvie never landed on the Moon. Have you seen the number of complete rockets at Hampden?”

TC:“I think we will leave it there, Mr Regan.”

Regan:“What? You can’t do that! This is a conspiracy to make me look ridiculous isn’t it?”


And if you think that is a complete piss-take, take a look at this:

Regan dismisses ‘ludicrous’ conspiracy theories as he sets out why SFA won’t join review


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

Clumpany Matters, Media, Satire, Scottish Football, SFA

An Independent Review Of The Clumpany


To whom it may concern.

As you are aware, The Clumpany has received correspondence from a representative body and someone else (who I won’t mention *cough cough*) asking for my input into a review of Clumpany governance and other activities.

The suggestion made by this correspondence is that

  • The Clumpany is shit,
  • its Clumping has been substandard for some time; and that
  • following various developments in the wider world of football satire and commentary, it is time to take a long hard look at all things to do with The Clumposphere.

The proposed review would be undertaken with a view to improving the quality of Clumping in the Scottish footballing ether.

The Clumpany has carefully considered this request, and has had an extremely vigorous debate with itself, considering all aspects of its responsibilities such as pouring Buckie, adding bleach, and drinking it.

The conclusion of these serious deliberations is that The Clumpany will not participate in any review of The Clumpany. Such an exercise would simply rake over the coals of an imaginary coal-and-rake scenario, and if that isn’t an argument for inaction The Clumpany doesn’t know what is.

The Clumpany would also like to point out that the quality of its Clumping has been absolutely Clumptastic according to my stringent systems of self-regulation and self-regard.

In fact it has been Clump, Clump, Clumpity-Clump Clumptastic!

However, The Clumpany has not been complacent about the criticism to which it has been subjected. The Clumpany sets the highest standards for itself, although there is no need for it to articulate those standards. And if they can somehow be portrayed as reflecting the standards expected by others, that’s lovely.

The Clumpany has recently made numerous changes to its processes and quality management and The Clumpany is happy to assert that they address all the issues which have been raised about it.

Frankly, that’s all you really need to know.

However, in the interests of the sort of transparency for which The Clumpany is rightly legendary, The Clumpany will set out the improvements it has made:

  1. The Clumpany has graciously noted the existence of its critics.
  2. The Clumpany has written this statement responding to the concerns which have been raised.
  3. The Clumpany has used words such as ‘transparency’ and ‘quality’.
  4. The Clumpany is assuring you that The Clumpany knows best and will therefore correctly not be a party to any exercise which might suggest otherwise.
  5. The Clumpany expects you to accept points 1-4.

The Clumpany trusts that this will be the end of the matter. However, The Clumpany is happy to restate its position to anyone who won’t rip it to shreds as being a pile of crap which only compounds blindingly obviously problems.


Media, Satire, Scottish Football, SFA

How To Manage The Scottish Sports Media

Good Evening.

The Clumpany is delighted to be acting as the recruitment agent for an exciting new fictitious media management opportunity at Sevco.

Please see the below details.


Position: Media Management Executive at one-time basket of assets.

Number of posts available: Three (see 'responsibilities' below).

Location: The Very Democratic People's Kingdom of Sevconia.

Salary: Um, well, errr… oh look, you need to get on with reading the rest of the advert.

Benefits: A 'free' breakfast (world class) is available for a daily charge.

Pension: Yes, some of our players are near to drawing theirs.

Start date: Immediate, but your career history can be backdated to 1872 if you wish. We have a very creative approach to such matters.

Duration: Our spin will survive the final heat death of the Universe.

Training: Our highly experienced Traynor will sort you out. 😉


The world's most successful* 'club' has recently initiated a strategy to manage the output of the Scottish sports media to within half an inch of its life. In doing so, they are building on their previous success in managing its output to within a full inch of its life.

The centrepiece of this progressive approach is to film journalists during press conferences so that everyone can be absolutely clear about who exactly said what.

Post One

To reinforce this positive innovation – known as 'Operation You Can't be Too Careful'the 'club' is now seeking a second cameraman to film the cameraman who is filming the journalists.

The post holder will focus the mind of the first cameraman and sure that there is absolutely no chance of any press pack 'misdeeds' (as defined by us) going unrecorded.

Post Two

Our comprehensive approach to news management necessitates the appointment of a 'quality assurance' technician. The post holder will be a skilled cameraman responsible for filming the cameraman who is filming the cameraman who is filming the journalists.

Post Three

The final piece of our master plan to ensure totally anodyne coverage of the 'club' will be the appointment of a 'quality control' specialist. The post holder will be an experienced cameraman responsible for filming the cameraman who is filming the cameraman who is filming the cameraman who is filming the journalists.

The successful applicant must possess versatility and be able to scrawl over journalists' notes with a black marker pen and shout 'no one leaves until their story is correct' when required.

Applications to: Clumpany Towers (Satirical Recruitment Division).

Applications which are not submitted on the label of a full bottle of Buckie will be rejected unread.

Time-wasters only please.


Any takers?


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


Satire, Scottish Football, SFA, SPFL

The Shite Before Christmas…

Good Evening.

The Clumpany has bad news for children across the land.

Apparently everyone's favourite festive hero Santa Claus is introducing a new approach to his work this Christmas.

He won't accept childrens' Christmas wish lists this year because he considered lists previously. The fact that circumstances have changed, and that the children see their earlier lists as competently defective – if not utterly irrelevant – is unfortunately immaterial as far as he is concerned.

Santa has taken advice from a non-Lapland lawyer and he has to inform the youth of Scotland that he cannot reopen the issue of Christmas lists. Not that Santa views this as a problem. Indeed he believes that there is no appetite for him to consider Christmas lists this year, and he expects Scottish youngsters to move on to Easter.

Santa does however have a gargantuan appetite for your contribution to his work. He therefore requests that you leave an extra mince pie and a whole bottle of Buckie out for him this year. You don't need to bother with a carrot for Rudolph, though.

"Fuck Rudolph" said Santa. "As long as I'm having an easy life, I don't care about the welfare of anyone else or indeed the integrity of this whole 'Christmas' malarkey'."

Merry Christmas everybody.


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