Secret Diary, Saturday 5th December

On Saturday I had what could possibly be the strangest encounter of my journalistic career so far. I was loafing around Parkhead, avoiding Peter Lawwell who hasn't been in the best of moods with our fraternity since last Tuesday's antics at the City Chambers - indeed, it's been rumoured that he had Stephen McGowan on the rack for five hours on Thursday and it would've been ten had Celtic not won on Wednesday night so we can guess that McGowan won't be straying very far from the Lawwell agenda for a while (not that he ever did, the toadying little slut). I was there ostensibly to interview Willie Miller who had come down from Aberdeen to keep an eye on the referee but he was proving as elusive to me as I was to Lawwell of late so I took time to try out one of Celtic's new catering ventures - the soya and lentil green pie, otherwise known as SoyLent Green. Quite tasty it was too.

Corporate hospitality at Celtic Park isn't the place for me just now considering half the Labour MPs in Scotland suspect me of being in cahoots with Graeme Souness and the Late 80s Rangers Squad Commandos so I took a stroll down to the changing rooms to see if I could pin down Miller. I was standing outside the changing rooms with no one else around when from above the noise of the Parkhead faithful celebrating their diversity by singing sad folk songs about the ethnic cleansing of protestants in rural Ireland, I could hear a strange humming noise coming from the Aberdeen changing room. It seemed damned odd so I popped my head in the door to make sure everything was alright and was dazzled by the multi-coloured lights which danced around the walls. I took a few steps in and called out hello but no one answered and still that strange noise persisted as a psychedelic display of colours lit up the showers. I could hear a low voice now which merged with the booming noise I'd heard from outside, it was a soft voice, reassuring, almost hypnotic and as I ventured further into the changing room I could just about make out what it was saying and as the realisation hit me, there in front of me, sitting on the benches, transfixed by the colours and under the influence of the sounds emanating from speakers on the walls, was the entire Aberdeen squad, hypnotised. The recording was saying over and over to the weird music, 'You are Aberdeen Football Club. You never play well against Celtic. You will go out onto the park today and lose by many goals. When you play Rangers you will play like heroes and strive to beat them. When you leave this room you will not remember what has been said here but you will not beat Celtic.'

I couldn't believe it, Celtic had been hypnotising Aberdeen all this time! Everyone had wondered of course, how a team could raise their game against Rangers one week then play like drunk farmhands the next when they face Celtic, well now I knew! I sneaked out of there and left the stadium, wondering what now to do with my new found knowledge. Knowing full well what the outcome of the Celtic Aberdeen game would be, I caught a taxi to the west end to consult Gillian Bowditch and found her in her usual haunt on Gibson Street, supping ale and haranguing the gay bar staff with Graham Grant of the Scottish Daily Mail. I told them everything I knew and they took a moment to consult in private before Grant approached me and asked if he could have a word in private. He led me into the toilet and said 'Listen here Spiers, we can't have stories casting aspersions on Celtic appearing in print - if our flock start questioning the integrity of Celtic then whatever next? The church? It's hard enough in these secular times to get people to chapel but praying for a Celtic win is one way and begging forgiveness for their many sins while supporting that team is another. Without Celtic the catholic church in Scotland would be out of business and to whom then would I be able to preach my extreme anti-gay prejudices? Now then, while we're here, bend over and take this like a man.' And at that he buggered me right there in the loos, sneered, blessed himself and spat on me, leaving me shaking on the floor. Well I guess that was my answer then.