The Curse of the Moon Shadow

'What do you mean, there's been dissent in the Rangers 80s Squad Commandos,' exclaimed Donald Findlay. 'I want to know who exactly and I want to know why they feel they can walk away from such an important role in Souness’s elite squad.’
‘Well that’s the thing you see,’ replied Watson. ‘There’s only one and that’s Souness himself.’
I was with Findlay when the news came in and watched bemused as he tugged at his whiskers and almost turned purple with apoplexy.
‘That’s the thing about we Rangers,’ he said, throwing his pipe in the fire in his rage. ‘We’re never united, never! Too much of a broad church, don’t ye know?’
I did. Although the way I tell it, there’s nothing broad about it and they’re all mad Protestant bastards; all the better to deflect from the strange Catholic fundamentalism going on over at Celtic Park these last few years during the reign of Lawwell. Talking of whom, I was over there with him earlier, watching in admiration as he tore strips off the editor of the Daily Record.

‘What we need,’ he hissed as he held his horse whip under Alan Rennie’s chin, such as it was. ‘Is something to take the heat off our fans’ behaviour at Dens Park: are there any gullible Catholics playing for that other lot just now?’
‘There’s Sandaza,’ whimpered Rennie.
‘There you are then, simply report that he’s been ordered by Rangers not to cross himself on the pitch and resulting shit storm will knock our riot off the front pages. Christ, do I have to do all your thinking for you? You’re no BBC Scotland that’s for sure – they’ve been sitting on this story for days and will continue to do so in perpetuity unless I say otherwise. Honestly, they make me proud those boys; it’s almost an editorial policy to blow me twice a week over at Pacific Quay, a lesson you could learn well.’ He eyed Rennnie most salaciously and then continued, ‘Although it gives me no pleasure as I like the lassies as much as the next man – as long as the next man ain’t Spiers, eh Spiers?’ and he snorted at this. ‘But you need to know where you stand when it comes to dealing with Celtic so get your lips round it and suck and remember Chris McLaughlin’s advice: I like little nibbles every couple of minutes, just to prove you care.’

It was no surprise to discover later that Professor Tom Devine had been at Dens Park; the level of public drunkenness and urination, well these were his modus operandi, usually in west end pubs but save for the odd slashing and attacking women – he always left that to Lawwell’s people because Devine prefers to work below radar, scheming, plotting and vomiting on interviewers live on BBC Scotland Election programmes – it had his fingerprints all over it which made a change from them being all over Angela Haggerty or Janette Findlay or any number of bitter old Celtic Minded trollops for that matter.

Apparently Devine had called O’Hara at Pacific Quay and demanded that he ignore the Celtic fans’ antics in Dundee but O’Hara hooted at him and asked if he wasn’t aware of the BBC Scotland editorial policy on Celtic, otherwise known as the O’Hara Policy and then hung up on him. This slight sent Devine into a rage and it took three pints of port and a fumble with Jim Spence’s missus at the back of a returning Celtic Supporters’ bus to calm him down.