How the devil are you my old mucker. Still busking on your blog? Lady Bear has cooked up some Bakewell filth on her Aga for sustenance which will be with you presently. I trust my tuppence worth will provide your readers with a modern-day ‘Broons‘ experience. Ma Broon does not strike me as the most emancipated of women. Contraception seems to have passed her by. Lady Bear is the kind of strong woman that one should celebrate on Women’s Day. She’s a stormtrooper of a gal whose appeal is anathema to the Viagra salesmen of Big Pharma. As I write in my king size bed at our suite at The Balmoral I catch a glimpse of my beautiful Scottish bluebell slipping into something Secret and Victorian. There’s nothing like a promise to get the sap rising on this fine Sunday morning.
We travelled by first class carriage to The Athens of The North yesterday. Having been to Athens en route to Piraeus and our Cyclades idyll, I can but assume that this expression was coined when Athens was not the crumbling ruin that it is today. It would not be my first choice of twin towns. Bath would be much more apposite or Harrogate. We’re heading to Govan today which would be flattered if it were twinned with Fukushima.
I celebrate our wedding anniversary every June by renewing my lease on a box for Lady Bear and I to partake of a game that takes our fancy. Call me old-fashioned but I prefer Old Firm to Glasgow Derby, even though I know it’s a new club playing at my former club’s spiritual home. If they planted saplings on the hallowed turf I would still turn up to watch them grow so a new club is not too much of a stretch for me. We have founding father Charles Green to thank. If Fulham can have a statue of The King of Pop blowing Bubbles why not a statue to the King of Big Hands with a mug of builder’s brew on one finger?
Our chauffeur, former Ibrox favourite Mark Warburton, drove our Bentley up overnight. For a bit of fun we booked him into his old digs in Auchenhowie. One can but hope that they don’t superglue him to his lavatory as was the case during his previous tenure. Imagine the humiliation of being caught with your pants down and unable to flush away a bobbing Greyfriar’s Bobby that followed one out with the fire crew? He insists to this day that it was very cold in the bathroom, but I demur of his limp excuse.
He texted me this morning to reassure us that he was on his way having snatched a a few hours in a bed which was bedecked by a Celtic FC duvet cover. He awoke prior to his alarm call at 6.07 which he assumed was a reference to CFC going for 7 in-a-row, to the refrain of ‘It’s a grand old team‘ being blared through the TV. He switched the TV off but could not escape the soundtrack in the bathroom where a song venerating ‘Henrik Larsson’ rang out. It was followed by a remixing of an old classic:
Sunday morning, up with the lark
I think I’ll walk to Celtic Park
Hey hey hey, it’s a beautiful day
I’ve got the Bhoys waiting for me
And when I see them I know that I’ll say
Hey hey hey, another treble today
When you scored, scored, scored it was so lovely
This is my my my beautiful day
When I said said said that I love you
Oh my my my it’s a beautiful day
The jolly craicsters were having a field day. Mark will be driving for us for the couple of years it takes him to complete his A-Z course and gain a black cab licence. Lady Bear and I like to arrive early to avoid the ‘Nosebag Masons‘ who line up like crows in The Argyle Suite. Her antipathy to Ibrox legend John Brown, who can usually be found in a crumpled heap behind a Chesterfield after a skinful of malt, is in no small measure due to his insistence on calling her ‘hen’ and looking at her lasciviously when ordering a ‘totty‘ scone.
We also choose to avoid Alex EBT McLeish and Derek Johnstone. The latter always leaves five minutes before half time to have first dibs on the pies and bridies. Those he cannot eat are stuffed into his pockets for the drive home to Helensburgh. He is relatively easy to avoid in The Argyle Suite. All one has to do is move away from his wake of pastry flakes.
However our suitably serene early morning progress was brought to an abrupt halt by an illegal march by a group that we were later informed call themselves The Union Bears. There are so many Bears groups that one loses track. There are The Vanguard Bears, who paid the fines for the Recidivist Bears who attacked the celebrating Hibs fans at Ibrox. Then there are The Incontinent Bears who dropped their pants and made a deposit on the Queen’s Highway in Manchester. There is an even an Australian Bears group, The Sons of Strewth.
It reminds one of the different political factions in the Life of Brian. Not that levity and The Union Bears are in any way easy bedfellows. They are not in any way Huggy Bears. They were responsible for punching a female steward’s tooth out and then bombarding her with vile pejorative epithets when she complained. They also set about a retired gentleman who attempted to defend her.
Is ‘No country for old men, or women‘ The Union Bears mission statement? James Forrest in his most recent blog opines about how Civic Scotland turns a blind eye to the sectarianism at Ibrox, but the following banner has caught the eye of at least one MSP:
James Dornan SNP
Hi @policescotland can you assure me you’re aware of this and will be at the KP Loudon Tavern to ensure it doesn’t go ahead? If this wasn’t meant to be threatening then why talk of ‘fenians’ and the request for ‘dark clothing’
This is an obvious incitement to hatred. As you know JJ there is not a sectarian bone in my body. I’m not in any way an exponent of Irish racism. These mindless thugs are not marching in my name. One can but hope for a robust police response.
Yours in Rangers,
Edward ‘Teddy’ Bear Esquire
‘The Chalfonts Home on The Range’
Chalfont St Giles
P.O. Box 1690
As much as it’s great to hear from you and every schoolboys crush, Lady Bear, it saddens me to note that Scotland’s Shame has reared its ugly head yet again. A poster with images of a green shirted fan being kicked reminds one of the 2016 Scottish Cup Final:
Yuanker’s assertion that the fans were defending their players was as hollow as his claims that Chinese clubs were pursuing Morelos. When The Morelos Myth was exposed as an elaborate lie, the enterprising BBC journalist who laid bare the lie was then badgered by Yuanker and the BBC Freemasonry hierarchy into issuing a grovelling apology or face disciplinary action.
Does Scotland’s shame want to incite a mounted police response today at Ibrox?
James Dornan, for drawing Police Scotland’s attention to this illegal march prior to a tinderbox fixture, has been inundated with abuse from the GIRFUY Bears.
Hatred is common currency at Ibrox. Is it not high time the Lite board stopped cashing in on this hatred?