The Curious Case of Nil By Mouth Part 2

We were in the Blue Room at Ibrox and Martin Bain was showing me all the work Rangers had been carrying out behind the scenes, unannounced to combat sectarianism. It was very impressive, even to an old Rangers hater like me. All the while Bain was talking, the editor of the Scottish Sunday Times sat across from me glaring - he was in no mood to be at Ibrox I knew, because he's more often than not to be found in the VIP section of the Celtic Park main stand celebrating his diversity by singing about soon there'll be no protestants at all.

Bain finished his piece and sat down, then Donald Findlay, teeth clenched around an unlit pipe, looked me in the eye and said, 'This is your Sunday column, Spiers - don't argue, Carlos here has already agreed to it to avoid us kicking up a stink about your invidious piece on soldiers being invited to Ibrox, haven't you Alba, you smirking, bald cunt? You're already on a hiding to nothing since we went straight to London who incidentally, are very disappointed at what happens when they give Scotland a free rein to write their own copy. What was it they said - 'go to town on that dago/mick prick Donald and if Carlos Alba says anything you don't like then tell him I'll be straight up there to stick a copy of Keep the Faith, The Story of Celtic’s Historic Treble Winning Season right up his arse and give him his P45 while I'm doing it'? So you see Spiers, I know the Celtic indoctrination machine is too great to overcome and we'll never have you on our side but at least we can get to you through your editor who realises his usefulness to Lawwell will disappear overnight if we have him sacked from his influential position thanks to you. We're not asking much, just parity and you can start on Sunday.'

There it was, if I wanted to keep my column in the Sunday Times then I'd need to write a Rangers puff piece. Could I do it? Could I bear to turn my back on all my principles and write positively about Rangers? Of course I could - I've done it before, when I used to be invited to all of SDM's private orgies in Paris, Marble Arch and Gstaad until he had me booted out of bed for touching the wrong person in a foursome that time in Clichy and then I turned on Rangers in such a vicious manner it surprised even me, it certainly surprised my family who haven't spoken to me in over ten years. So I agreed, Findlay and Bain smiled and Alba's face, almost puce with rage, told me that I was in for a caning once the meeting was over. It wasn't to be that simple though; Alba was ushered out of the room and Findlay came over to me and clapped his hand on my shoulder.
'You used to be one of us Spiers and we do have a soft spot for you in spite of all your recent tricks and fancies, this is why we've pulled your fat out of the fire more than once but our subtle approach doesn't seem to be getting through to you so I'm afraid we have no choice but to show you the real enemy. You're to come with me and once you see what we're up against? Sunday's column should be no problem to you.'