Odyssey Part Six

 

Although I'd been plotting to find a way out of these interminably long weeks at sea for quite a while, once I'd finally decided that I was definitely over ever wresting the wife from the disgusting clutches of Tom Devine it didn't take long for things to start happening in my favour. First, and this will shock my Celtic fan club, the Rangers humped my team right off the park on Sunday and as suspected, Lawwell went to war. I was kept up to date with events through the nightly appearances in my dreams of the malevolent demon, Wormwood. He'd been featuring in my dreams for quite a while now, normally reminding me that he'd be seeing me in hell very shortly and that Willie Malley had a chamber put aside for me. I put these dreams down to my lack of sea legs and even mentioned them to Stuart McCall one night as we sat in the library, McCall silent and buried in books as ever. He listened intently but offered no advice save for keep off the herring before bedtime and to 'for god's sake take a bath.' But it wasn't until after the Rangers victory that Wormwood began to issue me with instructions and a plan formulated in my mind.

I thought everything was going as planned and was taking a walk around deck yesterday morning, letting the sea spray wash the sleep from my face when Stuart McCall loafed up beside me and asked if everything was okay? I reassured him that I was tip top but noticed him eyeing me in a peculiar manner as he strolled off to catch up on the morning papers. I began to tremble at the thought that somehow McCall had rumbled me but my reverie was soon disturbed by Ian Ferguson firing a blunderbuss at the seagulls and I disappeared into my berth to continue my preparations. Monday night then passed without incident and nary a sighting of Devine's boat which wasn't unusual, if you'd told me that BBC Scotland had reported fairly on Rangers then that'd have been unusual but not seeing Devine or my wife was becoming the norm by now.

Then this morning it happened. I was awoken earlier than usual by the sound of running from all quarters and got up to see what was happening. Everyone was gathered in the radio room and not a word was said until the full message had been received. Gough looked up, 'Well there we have it gentlemen, we're at war again,' and the others looked at each other with a weary resignation which seemed to stem from the burden of too many campaigns similar to the one ahead.
'From now on,' continued Gough, 'we're on a war footing - Fergie, I want all weapons primed and ready; Stuart, I want full background on how this came about and where the first assaults might come from; Goram, you need to sober up and get rid of that barmaid from your cabin and check all engines. Spiers, our quest for your wife is at an end, I'm sorry - we tried our best.'
I tried manfully to look as if I gave two damns and then everyone left to carry out their orders. I found out later that Lawwell had annexed the SFA and put George Peat under house arrest, was keeping Stewart Regan as his personal sex slave and had launched the full might of the Green Brigade against the Scottish refereeing fraternity. All other Scottish football teams had objected to the United Nations while Rangers said nothing as usual and sat in the Blue Room discussing butter while the green hordes swept across Scottish society wreaking havoc. Of course nothing about this was mentioned in the press due to Lawwell's vice like grip and the lads over at BBC Scotland were too busy issuing death threats to Willie Collum to do anything else and so for the first time in decades, the BBC went off the air in Scotland and a test card was transmitted with the Fields of Athenry playing in the background.

Storm clouds were gathering over this little country, figuratively and literally as thunderheads gathered across the Cowal peninsula as we attempted to come into Glasgow through the Clyde and by eleven o'clock this morning, the place was as dark Lawwell's soul, illuminated only occasionally by great streaks of lightning as Andy Goram guided us through the driving rain and the Port Glasgow Fenian Navy's blockade. Meanwhile I gathered my belongings and readied myself for the coming storm.