The Threepenny Bits Opera

Perhaps Souness was right when he suggested in the middle of a bloody melee that this is where I belong? Last season, or was it two seasons ago, somebody called me a weirdness magnet and insinuated that I was useful to all and sundry because I seem to attract all the freaks and monstrosities in the land and you know, it’s very hard to dispute this when I’ve just witnessed the waterfront slaughter of a battalion of the Green Brigade by that science pirate, Richard Gough and his cut throat Sikhs and have just sailed around Scotland in a great iron beast, the Nautilus while Gough waits for things to quieten down a bit.

I had been given my own quarters and was only there an hour before Donald Findlay knocked on my door; he was in a jovial mood and was whistling Mack the Knife which I found unusual since he’d only recently witnessed the murder of his housekeeper, Mrs Hudson and should have been in no mood for jollity.

‘What-ho, Spiers. I hear you had quite the blood lust last night, what? Blood lust? That’s a new one for you but then again, so is losing your dick and gaining a whopping great set of thrupenny bits, eh? Ho ho ho!’
‘I’m pleased you find my predicament amusing,’ I sneered. ‘But these blasted things have been the ruin of me – who takes seriously a woman sports journalist?’
‘Who took you seriously when you had a penis?’ chortled Findlay.
‘Laugh all you like Findlay but I’m done being used and abused by all and sundry. Last night was just the beginning. I had the power to save those wretches in the Brazen Head – Gough gave me the choice; me, Graham Spiers! I had their lives in my hands and I told him to spare not one of ‘em!’ I was quite ranting by now but Findlay interrupted.
‘Actually, you had nothing in your hands. I was the one who gave Gough the order to raze the waterfront. They dared break into my house and murder my housekeeper? They dared attack me and my guests? How dare they? Well now they’re reaping the whirlwind because last night I sent in the navy. Today we rest, consolidate and ensure Ibrox and Murray Park are secure but tomorrow? Tomorrow I let slip the dogs of war, tomorrow the Rangers 80s Squad Commandos are coming out of retirement.’

He wasn’t jovial anymore, that was for sure. His eyes darkened and he stood by a porthole gazing out into the murky blackness of the North Sea.
‘For too long we’ve sat back and allowed ourselves to be attacked. First it was the small things: I was in purgatory for singing a song at a private party while practically the whole Celtic team was caught on film singing their own offensive songs with nary a whimper from the press – where was their banishment, eh? Where were their years in the wilderness? Then individuals weren’t enough, they came after the fans en-masse and next thing you know the Billy Boys is gone as they disingenuously changed the meaning of one word, claiming it offended them. Well if it offended them so much, why do they still use it to refer to themselves? If all this wasn’t enough, they then discovered there was capital to be gained by complaining to anyone they could think of about Rangers fans and look where that’s got us, freedom of speech gone, thought crime on the statute books and halfway towards Dystopia. Yes, some thought the new legislation would even things up but what do they say now that we’ve witnessed fifty thousand Celtic fans singing about the IRA and then calling us all huns only for the Assistant Chief Constable to praise them for their good behaviour? Imagine that shoe was on the other foot, Spiers? I can almost hear the squeals from the cabal of Celtic Minded academics as they rush to condemn the whole of Scotland of bigotry. The same type of bigotry they’d see in themselves if only they weren’t so pompous and standing on a moral high ground built of sand.

‘You know, I used to think that the whole sectarian charade was a convenient smoke screen for Lawwell to hide the deficiencies of his team but now I’m not so sure. Now I think there may be an even greater end game although what exactly it is, I couldn’t say. Once Souness and his commandos have shaken things up a bit then maybe we’ll know a bit more. I can just imagine him now: dressed in black, knife between the teeth, swimming towards Parkhead. Or Hampden. Our enemies are everywhere now, Spiers. Even in here, in this room.’
‘Me?’ I squirmed.
‘Have you forgotten the last ten years? You think that just because you now have a marvellous pair of tits that we’re going to forget all about your behaviour? Your constant attacks on the club and support? You were their main cheerleader. No more though. What are you now but a big unemployed lassie? You’ve been overtaken by the young turks, Spiers and if you know what’s good for you then you’ll do as we say and maybe, just maybe, you’ll end up alright.’

He ended that sentence with a tip of his top hat and left me alone to think about what he’d said. I could hear him whistling down the corridor and then he stopped whistling and started singing quietly and I remember the words because they were in German which seemed odd.

Denn die einen sin dim Dunkeln
Und die andern sind im Licht
Und man siehet die im Lichte
Die im Dunkeln sieht man nicht.