Dom Gall: You can always trust Scottish football to make an ar*e of itself

If it's not the national team - it's getting a bum deal in the lower leagues.



You’d think with the lack of domestic football it would have been a quiet one in Scotland. It wasn’t our finest of weeks, especially for the national team, but we’ve plenty to get us by. The theme of the day is arses with a steward’s arse, officials making a dog’s arse, Scotland fans not giving a rat’s arse and a Partick fan being a bit of an arse, all to come.

The long weekend of action got off to the expected start as Russia tore us a new one and ended our qualification chances. I suppose it’s a bit like getting a tooth out, you know full well what’s going to happen, but it stills hurts. Saying that, at this point we don’t have many metaphorical teeth left to pull out before we start looking like an 80-year-old who has smoked 40 a day for half a century.

It’s fair to say the Tartan Army have all but given up, with just over 20,000 turning up to Hampden on Sunday evening. It’s a choice we all had to make – three bottles of Buckfast or one ticket to watch the two worst teams on earth? Get us to the nearest corner shop.

I’m actually a big fan of Gordon’s logic here, as he has correctly pointed out we’d have been better off not even bothering:

Thankfully the Scots aren’t the only ones surrounded by negativity. Sadly for the San Marino gaffer, a 6-0 pumping to such a poor side is always going to throw up question marks around his job:

It seems regardless of what happens in any Scotland game, one of the managers has always got to go. We demand action. Always. There was some highlights from the game however, including San Marino gifting Da’s everywhere a new joke by having a player called Brolli playing in the rain, a kid slapping his pal in the face behind a group of fat old blokes stood topless and, my personal favourite, a steward’s arse:

I’m not joking by the way… it’s actually been the biggest talking point of the game:

Domestically, we had the delights of the Tunnock’s Caramel Wafer Challenge Cup. It wasn’t massively exciting, but I will always take any opportunity I’m given to mention we have a tournament called that.

There was a bit of a mad one as Raith overcame Glenavon 3-1 on Saturday as we were gifted our first contender for most bizarre goal of the season:

Who was a fault here? The officials? The mascot? The lack of rain? The Glenavon defenders? I would tell you but to be honest I still don’t have a clue.

Lastly, if you ever need to know what time kick off is, don’t turn to the internet. Just head along to your local bakers and ask your team’s manager:

It’s nice that in Scotland we only question whether the man actually pulled, as it’s perfectly believable to us all that the manager was found plodding out of the local bakers acting as the talking clock.

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What do you think?