we hear that...

working class heroes

Congratulations to Manchester’s Ricky Hatton on beating José Luis Castillo in Las Vegas to win the World Title. Normally I wouldn’t mention such a thing in my column, but I’ve taken a bit of a shine to Ricky since reading an interview he did for the Manchester Evening News on his triumphant return from the States. In it he spoke about the relationship between himself and Wayne Rooney, extraordinary in itself given Hatton’s frequently stated love for Manchester City .

Asked did he see any blurring between the sports of football and boxing, Hatton told his interviewer: “I have a lot of mates who are footballers, Robbie (Fowler) and Joey (Barton) took me up to watch Rangers as they are big fans, but to be honest I really didn’t enjoy the atmosphere at all. It might seem strange coming from me, but the atmosphere was aggressive without being hard if that makes sense. I really didn’t understand them at all. I then went with Wayne and Roy a few years back to watch Celtic and it was magic. Their fans were passionate and supportive and gave us a great welcome without getting in our faces all the time. Celtic has a lot in common with City in that they are the people’s team of their city and they haven’t forgot their roots, a real
working class team which does credit to the city they represent”.

Strangely enough, I didn’t see that part of the interview printed in any of the papers up here.

loonhamers

Still, if Ricky thought that a visist to Ibrox was bad, maybe it’s as well that he stays away from Dumfries, if poet Hugh McMillan’s description of his home town is anything to go by.

As if calling the Queen of the South a ‘shithole’ wasn’t bad enough (Is that pathetic fallacy? Poetic Ed) (No, it’s pretty accurate - literal Earwig) he claims that walking through the town on Saturday afternoon is, “enough to make you weep. The streets are filled with junkies, knock-kneed whores, thieves, pederasts, religious maniacs and Rangers supporters.”

I understand that the junkies, knock-kneed whores, thieves, pederasts and religious maniacs of Dumfries are none too happy at being lumped in with the Rangers supporters and are considering doing a spot of enjembement on parts of Mr. McMillan’s anatomy.

pie cameras

But there will be no hiding place for the aforementioned Rangers supporters any more, especially the naughty sectarian singers, even inside Ibrox. the reason? According to Charles Lavery in the Sunday Mail, “Rangers are installing a network of spy cameras in ceilings at Ibrox to unmask who is nicking all the pies. Club chiefs ordered the equipment following a shortfall in takings at their food stalls... An insider at Ibrox said: ‘Never mind eating all the pies, someone has been stealing them - and bosses want to find and deal with them.’”

Yes, every penny is precious, it seems, and so we wish them all the best in their quest to unmask the Phantom Pie Stealer of Ibrox. I only dabble in psychological profiling, but I would keep a wary eye on anyone buying a new Rangers top in size XXXXXL (Yes, they do sell them in 5XL size - apparently they double as marquees should you want to hold a family wedding inside one of them). On second thoughts, we’re trying to narrow it down to a few thousand suspects.

Much better to stick to the diet of the players - packets of Monster Munch, pickled onion flavour, particularly the isotonic variety, ‘in tune with your body fluids’.

Believe it or not, this very same corn-based savoury snack was featured on the Taquitos.net website a while back as snack of the month. Which is how I came to discover that the creature on the pickled onion packet is known as “Orange Monster”. Apparently he weighs 60 stone and his favourite drink is onion juice.

What I can’t confirm is that he is currently working as a model for XXXXXL Rangers jerseys and is on the waiting list for a council house in Dumfries.

Warning: before any Rangers supporters pass up their chance to hang out with the junkies, knock-kneed whores etc. in favour of a trawl through the internet looking for some Monster Munch porn to drool over, be careful. A search for Rangers FC on the official EUFA.com website a few months ago brought up this startling image (below) on the cash-strapped Ibrox side’s page.

It was swiftly removed following several complaints (and a few heart-attacks no doubt) so I’m afraid they will never know the winners of the European Priests Football Championships - which sounds like an episode of Father Ted if you ask me. Maybe they could announce it over the tannoy at Mordor .

behold the lamb of dave

While pickled onion flavour Monster Munch might be on the menu at Murray Park, I doubt very much if it is served - even as an hors d’oeuvre - within the oak panelled offices of David Murray in Charlotte Square. More likely that should you ever get a job on one of Scotland’s leading newspapers you’ll be invited along for some succulent lamb, which is why the headline above from a recent issue of British Farmer and Grower caught my attention (well that and the picture of the cow on page 3 - some teats!).

Apparently, “lamb sales in the UK have been strong over the past few years.” Coincidentally, publicity for Sir Dave of Moonbeams has been very good as well.

I was intrigued, though, to find out what was the best kind of lamb to buy. You never know when Sir Minty Moonbeam might park the private helicopter on the tennis court here at NTV Mansions and pop in for dinner, or to serve a writ on us.

Author Jonathan Birnie reveals all: “New season lamb is quite rightly seen as premium product and usually meets the specifications for ‘ideal eating quality’, being both tender and succulent.”

Sounds much more appetising than porridge.

Toodloo the noo

THE EARWIG

 

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