I Would Not Go Near The SFA With A Barge Pole

“CARDINAL” Martin Hannan is one of Scotland's finest all-round journalists, able to write with authority on a wide range of sports, but, also liable to see his by-line in the front section of the paper, where he can fulminate as eloquently on politics and other social issues as he can on fitba, rugby and horses in the comic sections at the back.

 

 

If the accountants and salesmen running Scotland's ever-shrinking dead trees press had half a clue, or the stumblebums looking after our broadcast media in charge of our broadcast media had any idea about talent and how to use it best, Martin would be a much-better-known journalist than he is via his singular columns in the National.

Yesterday he had something to say about the ongoing debate between Hampden and Murrayfield, and what he said made sense. I urge you to seek it out and read it for yourself. I thought I would divest myself of my thoughts on this great debate – one which is set to continue for a week or so yet, following the SFA's board's entirely-predictable decision of yesterday: to make no decision on the matter.

I have been going to Hampden since 1956 and to Murrayfield since 1958, so, I have known triumph and disaster (probably more of the latter) at both grounds. At Hampden I have seen most of the legends of the past 60-years, ditto Murrayfield, and while a trip from Ayrshire to Murrayfield is probably – given the apres-match in the hostelries of the capital – better for the spirit than the shorter journey to Hampden, emotionally I doubt if anything will come close to beating England in 1962, watching Alan Gilzean's header go in two years later, or Joe Jordan's crashing home in 1973.

Joe Jordan serves-up an iconic Hampden moment in 1973 

So, where do I stand on Hampden or Murrayfield? Actually, I firmly believe, once we have escaped England's increasingly-desperate,  vice-like grip via Indyref2, the first post-Independence Scottish government should, as a matter of urgency, commission a proper NATIONAL stadium being built on a site with good road and rail access, somewhere central – around Stirling – and get it built.

This ought to be a 100,000-capacity, roofed, state-of-the-art stadium to be used for both football and rugby internationals. Building such a stadium would allow both the SFA/Queen's Park to downgrade Hampden and Murrayfield to smaller grounds and perhaps sell-off surplus land to underpin their finances.

Cutting Murrayfield down to say a 30,000 capacity ground, to be shared by Edinburgh, Hearts and Hibs makes sense to me. Make Hampden similar-sized, to be shared by Queen's Park, Partick Thistle and Warriors also makes sense – not least because it could return Scotstoun to athletics.

This, of course will not happen. Once we get out from under England's (sorry, make that London's) less than benevolent thumb, there are a lot more issues, more-important than the home grounds of our national sports to be sorted-out. In any case, while our politicians – of all hues – like the publicity to be gained from being seen at the big, set-piece sporting occasions, they lang syne discovered, having to deal with the guys running our main sporting bodies is a short cut to headaches and ultimately delirium.

As I have said before, there is a protocol in Ayrshire junior football – the village idiot gets onto the local club committee. In senior football they send the VI to Hampden to sit on the many SFA comittees, while in rugby, the useless committee-man the club wants kept out of the way, is sent to the various fora and from there onto the SRU Council. (I know, occasionally, mistakes are made and someone half-way competent finds his way onto this body, but, there are always enough numpties already there to offset and good sense they might bring).

I am still trying to work-out quite why The Fat Controller and The Thin Controller ever decided to get involved with the stumblebums who stalk the sixth-floor corridor at Hampden. No possible good can ever come of associating with a bunch of preening half-wits, permanently trying to stay on the good side of the Bigot Brothers; totally unaware, as those of us who can think for ourselves have long known – there is no good side to the Bigot Brothers.

It has always been my belief, in this issue of where the Scottish football team plays its home games: wee Peter Lawwell, Celtic's CEO, is playing the SFA and the SRU off against each other so, he can at some point, step in and offer Celtic Park as an alternative home for Scotland's home games and the big cup finals. And getting the Dublin Murphyia to accept “the San Giro” as the venue for the 2019 Guinness PRO14 final is all part of the plot I think.

The logistical case for Murrayfield is overwhelming. When the SRU did-up Murrayfield, they did it properly; when Queen's Park and the SFA did-up Hampden, they messed it up fairly comprehensively. But, it is the emotive case for Hampden that the SRU is having to fight. And sporting emotion is an unfair adversary.

All those memories: Alec Cheyne's goal direct from a corner in 1929; those two huge attendances in 1937; Great Britain v the Rest of Europe in 1947; Archie Robertson's equalising goal from Clyde, direct from a corner, in 1955; Real Madrid v Eintracht in 1960; Maradona's goal in 1979; Kenny Dalglish's final Scotland goal v Spain; Leigh Griffiths' two free-kicks against England in 1917 – there's 88 years-worth of raw Hampden emotion for you – how do you fight that?

No, the SRU should stay well clear of the SFA, leave them to sort-out their own failings around Hampden. In any case, should Murrayfield prevail - the first time the Bigot Brothers come calling at Murrayfield together will, in one afternoon, convince even the SRU Council – we boobed in hosting these people – how do we get out of this deal.

  Taking it easy - The Eagles playing Hampden

By the way, if you're interested, my best Hampden memory – my late wife and I went to an Eagles gig there in about 2002. On the way out, I met an old sports-writing friend, there with his missus. We both agreed, leaving Hampden feeling very-happy and glad to be alive was an unusual occurrence.