At a time when the skies haven't fallen in, beasts forego prowling the streets and Scottish football has seemingly recovered from the slow lingering death of one half of the twin evils of Glasgow football. I find myself mildly perturbed that the blazers of the SFA haven't gotten together with their impartial chums at BBC Scotland and those defenders of the faith, the Better Together campaigners and done the one thing that might have saved the Union from the normality of Independence to wit: show the dream World Cup qualifiers live on council telly, rather than pap them out at five past flicking eleven at night.
This is the dream world cup in Rio, Brazil, the spiritual home of the beautiful game. Supporters of my generation, who can remember the transition from black and white to colour and the luminosity of that first sighting of Billy Bremner's fiery locks on the old 26" Baird-O-Vision box, have literally been waiting a lifetime for the opportunity to cheer on Scotland make it to play at the alter of world football, the Estádio de Maracanã.
In the past days of standing room only at Hampden the discordantly tuned Tartan Army would assemble in town and village squares across the Nation, at some unGodly hour waiting to transported to the south side of Glasgow for an afternoon of wet warm trouser cuffs and semi-permanent ear damage.
For those who preferred to witness the action from the dry comfort of the sofa the ritual was always as follows: block book the entire Saturday afternoon, dispatch the wife or non football supporting spouse of either gender, off to the shops or hills, get the beers in, pour a bumper packet of quavers in the general direction of some dainy bowls, assemble your pals, close the curtains and shout at an increasingly inanimate object in the corner for the next 90 minutes.
Somewhere in the last twenty odd years we've lost all that. Well those of us who refuse to suck the Murdoch boaby and hand over our shillings have. Sky currently have the broadcasting rights to show Internationals for Scotland, Northern Ireland and Wales. When the Irish FA sold them the rights to their International games, there was an uproar, that a foreign company controlled their game and the games were lost to terrestrial viewers. Never short of balls, the Irish public took legal action and won. As a result all Irish games are now shown on RTÉ. The hapless BBC Scotland and STV merely shrugged their shoulders and went back to showing repeats of Columbo or Cash in the Attic, whilst the SFA blazers chortled all the way to the next all-expenses paid FIFA conference in the Seychelles.
At the time there was frustration that we couldn't see our national game, cries that it must be preserved for the terrestrial audience, like those other 'telly crown jewels' Wimbledon and the Derby all fell on deaf ears. We did what Scotland's becoming famous for, nothing. 'Grumble grumble, bitch bitch och weel we don't do change it disnae work.'
BBC Scotland and their tame monkeys on Radio Scotland still trot out the usual keech about costs and competing with Sky and the cringe laden 'och we're shite and we'll lose anyways' mentality. Instead, those of us that don't make it to Hampden or the pub can sit idly bye watching England on ITV if they're playing that day...Whoah wait a minute why are all the England games available on terrestrial telly and not consigned to Sky? Ooh yeah that's right because the England fans wouldn't blinking allow it. They would riot, whereas we sit back and accept another torrent of keech posing as entertainment.
The ones I blame the most here are BBC Scotland our supposed national broadcaster. By dint of the accountants pen they've succeeded in their efforts to dumb down their audience, they've lost their passion and that innate desire to please their very own audience.
So this afternoon, I'll do what countless thousands of other fans Scotland fans without space telly will be doing, I'll squeeze into the too tight kilt, rescue the moth eaten 1970's Scotland top from the back of the cupboard and traipse off to the pub. It's fun, but it's not the same as having your pals round for an afternoon of wind up and a fridge close at hand rather than having to wade through the packed pub to grab a pint that you can only drink with a straight elbow to chin movement.
Perhaps the only solution is for BBC Alba to do their own deal with Sky and show the game live with Gaelic commentary. Now that I'd watch.
Le dùrachd.
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