The Gathering Storm

The glider came in low over some fields just outside Inveraray and my earlier misgivings about Souness's ability with an aircraft dissipated as we skidded through the grass and came to a civilised halt watched only by some half interested sheep who figured that as long as we weren't going to try to shag them or eat them, they weren't bothered. In that case it was lucky we'd jettisoned Mark McGhee over Loch Fyne. Souness climbed out, winked at me and jogged to the edge of the field where Avi Cohen was waiting in a jeep to pick him up. 'See you later, loser!' shouted Souness and they roared off leaving me wondering how I'd get back to the west end this time.

I got home eventually though and found to my dismay that I'd missed out on some drama as Celtic had plunged to a four nil defeat to St. Mirren. After the match, during the uncertainty caused by Lawwell's breakdown since his betrayal by Willie Haughey, it turned out that a faction of Radio Clyde and the Daily Record had seized control of Celtic and imprisoned Tony Mowbray. Peter Grant however had locked himself in a room at Lennoxtown and as Keevins and the Traynor issued diktats from Parkhead, Grant issued conflicting statements from Lennoxtown until the power was cut off and he was smoked out of his room. For a while confusion reigned until Lawwell recovered from his stupor and led an assault on Parkhead through the car park. They flushed out the Clyde/Record dissenters killing Keevins in the process and cornered the Traynor by using whips and chairs until someone could locate a cage. Back in control, Lawwell immediately put Neil Lennon in charge to appease the fans and invited a few carefully chosen journalists to witness Lennon's first moments in charge. I was one of them.

I turned up late which was my own fault as I'd broken my alarm clock after some particularly energetic frugging to Elton John the night I got back from Inveraray and as I was being shown into the press room at Parkhead, Hugh MacDonald was being ushered out and a clean up team were scrubbing the chair and floor where he'd wet himself. Sitting next to MacDonald's chair was the Traynor who was strapped to a gurney, a hockey mask covering his face and then there was my chair which I noticed was covered in drawing pins and which I knew I'd have to sit on lest Lawwell think I didn't have the commitment to Celtic to sit on a chair full of drawing pins.

Lawwell dressed in Hugo Boss nazi grey, opened the session by introducing Lennon who entered the room dressed like an Italian popinjay in vaguely military garb. Lawwell asked him to tell us his plans for Celtic. 'First,' said Lennon. 'From now on you are to refer to me as Il Duce and my first act as caretaker Celtic manager will be to declare war on Rangers.'
'Ahem,' interrupted Lawwell. 'Duce, I think you'll find that we're content to wage a cold war on Rangers and that all out war is something we might consider in the future but not until we are in a position of complete strength.'
'Aye well, we're going to continue the cold war against Rangers but until then, to flex our muscles and prove that we're still a force to be reckoned with, we're going to invade Burnbank.'
'Precisely,' interrupted Lawwell again. 'Burnbank being populated only with savage spear wielding natives will be no match for our tanks, good call Duce.'
'Correct,' affirmed Lennon. 'And my second act will be to give Johan Mjallby a job.'
And with those two pieces of nonsense, Lawwell broke up the conference and I left the room as men in white uniforms came in to wheel away the Traynor.

It wasn't long before Burnbank was annexed and every SPL team had come out in support of Celtic with only Hamilton Accies signing a treaty with Rangers due to the close proximity of Burnbank to their football ground and the worry that they might be next. As I walked home in the rain, I turned up my corduroy collar against the wind and shivered. There is a storm coming and it's going to be a big one.