Scott7

They were indeed, weren’t they? Except at the dentist.

I don’t recall the Jardine ordering off. Even David Docherty’s excellent The Rangers Football Companion has no descriptive comment on it.. The book covers all Rangers competitive games post-war up to 1985-86. You get dates, both teams, results, scorers, attendances and sometimes a wee note about anythIng significant. Maybe the author thought Sandy deserved it so didn’t want to embarrass him further. When I first paid my way through the turnstiles it was two shillings - 10p.

Wolves up to their customary seventh place. No way back for Nuno.

Moyes. Good record everywhere except at Old Trafford. No one would have succeeded as AF’s successor, except maybe Walter Smith.

Bacuna will never make it at Rangers.

Same as last season. Fourth/fifth place.

I say, jolly well played you fellows.

Tomorrow is a test of attitude. Rangers’ players are better footballers than Motherwell’s. No one can dispute that. Unusually the sceptic entity spurned their normal added time gift. No excuse - pitch, referee, injuries - for failing to take advantage on Sunday.

I would quite like him to be top defending defender.

Good stuff, Y B. Thanks.

Well, you see, it’s kind of like this. For the jessies who play and commentate on “footie” jersey pulling is just fine but a good dunt with the shou’der is horrific brutality, the sort of thing Caligula had a season ticket for. This abominable practice, endemic on the Continent, was comparatively rare here until imported from Italia 90. Young people hearing me droning on about it tell me gently “but it’s a man’s game”. It used to be.

Edinburgh’s a toffs’ town. I think it’s what they say in Morningside as in “Shell Ay poor oot more tea, Dephne?” In the current context it’s pouring out money as a happy couple leaves the Kirk after tying the knot thereby leading to the scramble. The practice features frequently in Oor Wullie and The Broons. Never heard it called a poor oot, not even in the years when I dwelled in Edinburgh’s high glamour south, ken?

A weekend of ghoulies and ghosties and long-legged beasties and things that go bump in the night like my forecasts this season so nuts to that and the following will be right. Most of the teams are in disguise to avoid embarrassment. Leicester 2-2 Gunners Clarets 2-1 Bees Scousers 3-0 Seagulls City 3-1 Palace Mags 0-3 Pensioners Wasps 0-0 So’ton ( Relegate them both) Hotspur 1-2 (the start of Ole’s customary rise from the ashes) Canaries 1-2 Leeds Villa 1-2 ‘ammers Wolves 2-2 Toffees

That Portuguese writer chap was a good judge.

FF reported the death of Jimmy Millar Number 9 this morning. Six pages later and about twenty minutes ago the OP is confirmed as mistaken. Some small relief.

Black ribbons hanging outside the Cabar Feidh pub in Elgin. Never seen that before.

I urge erudite posters on here never to let nbm away with the nonsense which is a large proportion of their output. Keep it simple when you write to them. Keep it factual. Above all keep it unemotional. Many a sound argument is obscured by outrage.

Strange that on the same day, Benitez and Solskjaer should deploy the same tactic of your own centre backs marking and even tackling each other.

You’ll be raging the ref, compo.

Solskjaer responding with a terrific burst of speed to put himself several lengths back in front. 0-4 at Old Trafford.

Me neither.

Just inside his own half, Davis short side pass to somebody, somebody passes back to Davis in a worse position than when he made the initial pass, Davis, hurriedly back to Goldson on the wrong foot, defence in retreat. This isn’t going to end well.

Chelsea’s last three goals including the o.g. and the penalty were offside.

Rafa coming up on the inside to lead Arteta and Solskjaer in the Managerial Goodbye Stakes?

Spiers, the thinking man’s Ian Archer. Or is it the other way round? Or are both the idiot’s idiot? “Lenny looks after you. He throws you in at the deep end.” I’ll take time to work that one out.