Date: 17th August 2020
The latest blog from SFSA writer Donald Stewart:
Let’s hear it for the little guy…
No seriously, let’s bleeding well hear it!
As we are all incandescent at the antics of privileged footballers, spare a thought for the guys currently training on their own and trying to hope that a game against Clyde or Clove Rangers or the mighty Falkirk might meaningfully materialize over the weeks and months ahead.
See if they don’t then many clubs may well be doomed.
Already people are talking about how this pandemic might just send clubs over the edge. We have seen cost cutting at places like Dundee whilst clubs like Albion Rovers have a new manager. Caution and investment is the unnatural key but what does the multi millionaire care?
A dark October windy night in a Scottish League Cup tie at Peterhead does not make them salivate at the mouth but for the local fan it is precisely what keeps them coming back to Balmoor to await. It is called a glamour tie for a reason…
But Scottish football, now has a yellow card.
Once again, the ineptitude of the people at the forefront of Scottish football is exposed, as they were forced, that’s right forced, into putting together a slate of punishments for people who do not abide by Government rules.
That’s what happens when you leave the weans to tidy up the nursery…
The footballing authorities got together with the Government to agree how to get fitba back on – they have now had to mumble apologies and have been made to put their house in order.
If they don’t fitba is aff.
A red card…
Oh, Celtic don’t get their 10 in a row this year. Motherwell and Aberdeen cannae fight it out for third and a European spot.
For some of it and for the footballers associated with these clubs it is far more serious. We lose our clubs, we lose our connection with the game and then what takes its place? From where is the next generation of superstars in the Scottish game going to come? Is it going to be from the housing estates and barren landscapes that have been trawled in the past as taking up the game with an exclusive club costs the family a fortune? Will it be from feeder clubs or performance academies that have suddenly gone out of existence because clubs are no longer there to support the young people interested? Will it be from the rich and middle class enclaves that can both afford to support their offspring in Nike footwear, three nights a week training 20 miles away and the latest training tops?
Will the latest initiative ion God Knows What from the SFA have any substance when they look round and see no players in the South West or in the Highlands? Precious little in Fife and a few Junior clubs in Ayrshire? Over what shall they lord it then?
Nine players broke the rules. Eight did so out of being a wee bit daft. One went to Spain. Neil Lennon was embarrassed and furious. The rest of us were incandescent.
Dear Mr Bolongoli, here is the door, don’t let it hit you on the way out. Of course, there could be a very good reason for you having gone to Spain. We would welcome you going back to make sure all is as it should be, for we have an equally pressing reason for showing you the door; survival, not of the fittest but of our game.
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