in defence of neil lennon, eventually

Cast your minds back to last week’s Dundee derby.

In particular, Paul McGowan’s winning goal and the subsequent celebration. I mentioned it in my last post.

Without wishing to cover old ground, imagine this situation: Scott Brown scores the winner in an Old Firm game at Celtic Park. He runs straight towards the Rangers fans, cupping his hand behind his ears with occasional, more provocative gesturing. He’d be up on a police charge pretty quickly, you would imagine. At the very least, there’d be enough righteous indignation from all quarters to power a small country.

He wouldn’t be booked, obviously, because he is Scott Brown. He’s so well protected by Scottish referees that he doesn’t even get booked in hypothetical examples that exist only within my own head.

I’m not suggesting Paul McGowan should be on a police charge (as I don’t think for a nanosecond he should be), although I imagine that would be an experience which is not new to him. As far as I know, while there was a lot of rage about what McGowan did, no-one saw fit to report him to the police, although I am willing to stand corrected on that.

So anyway. Neil Lennon went to Ibrox on Saturday and a minor storm was created.

Before I go on, in the interests of full disclosure, I do not like Neil Lennon.

I think my dislike dates back to the famous Dougie MacDonald game all the way back in 2010.

To break it down, MacDonald gave Celtic a penalty in a game at Tannadice in October 2010, which was the wrong decision. He wandered over to his linesman, telling him “I think I’ve fucked up”, which, to be fair, he had, so he reversed the decision.

He was correct to reverse the decision, as it was not a penalty, as Dusan Pernis played the ball about three days before he played Gary Hooper. I restate this fact as it often gets lost, like a diamond in a sea of raw sewage.

MacDonald lied about the reason why he didn’t give the penalty, as subsequent events proved. His story was that the linesman overruled the decision, and he told Lennon as much afterwards. In actual fact, he had realised he had given the wrong decision and reversed it, but for whatever reason didn’t have the balls to admit that afterwards.

But Neil Lennon’s post-match comments, bearing in mind this was a game Celtic won anyway, were pretty telling about the whole affair, and gives you an insight into his mindset.

“He’s given the penalty and for me he can’t change his mind. I didn’t get an explanation until the referee came over and spoke to me. His explanation was that his linesman had a better view of it and the keeper had played the ball. I find that unacceptable. He looked adamant to me when he gave the penalty. He got a good look at it. Looking at the replay Pernis has got a touch on the ball but he has taken Gary as well. There was a long, long delay between him awarding the penalty and him allowing the bounce ball. It was a very strange decision and we could have got a couple of other penalties as well. But I suppose you have to put it down to another honest mistake by the referee.”

It’s important to bear in mind that these comments were made before he knew that he had been lied to. So, referees are not allowed to change their mind. Even if they think they were wrong in the first place. Not when it affects poor wee put-upon Neil, anyway.

I find it interesting and also quite telling that he insinuates that referees are biased against him with his “honest mistake” remark, even though the referee instinctively gave Celtic the decision, wrongly. Och well.

The irony of the whole situation is that MacDonald would not have had to resign had he just stuck to the original incorrect decision and awarded the penalty. But as only Dundee United would have lost out in that scenario, it wouldn’t really have mattered to anyone.

Anyway. I don’t like him. But, I can say the same about a lot of managers. If the sight of any of these managers whipped me up into that much of a frenzy, I’d probably be too angry to ever leave the house.

Now, for some reason, and I cannot imagine why, Rangers fans seem to find the mere presence of Neil Lennon almost intolerably provocative.

There was a lot of ho-ho-ho on Sportsound about this on Saturday before Rangers played Hibs, as (I think) Chick Young commented that “Neil Lennon is sure of a hot reception”, and having a good chuckle about it, without ever really saying why.

Bigotry is hilarious, isn’t it?

I cannot imagine what it’s like hearing 50,000 bigots shout the most horrific sectarian abuse at you. It’s not a new experience for Lennon, but I wouldn’t have thought that this would make it any easier to deal with. In Lennon’s defence, had I been in his shoes on Saturday I’d have probably run round Ibrox with my trousers down shouting expletives in all directions.

I have reacted to Simon Murray goals in less dignified ways than that in my time, believe me.

With all this in mind, judging Neil Lennon’s actions on Saturday is quite difficult. Walk a mile in his shoes, and so on.

Despite that, cupping your ears in the direction of the home fans, and giving the internationally recognised gesture meaning get it right fucking up you, as funny as it was, probably wasn’t clever.

But it was all rather pantomime. Certainly a long way short of the sheer malevolence the man can display on occasion, as shown by his comments I quoted earlier. And frankly, if that type of thing angers you to such an extent, you shouldn’t be anywhere near a football ground.

I do enjoy the irony of fans who shout the most horrible abuse at players and managers but run crying to the police when some of it is given back. You hear the chanting and singing at the vast majority of Rangers games, and you wonder why, of all the things they see and hear each week, the sight of Neil Lennon cupping his ears is the thing that offends them.

“I can’t believe we’re not allowed to sing the Famine Song. We can’t even chant Fuck The Pope any more without The Man getting on our backs. These people are so sensitive, they really need to toughen up, bloody snowflakes…wait, hang on, the opposition manager cupped his ears in my general direction! OFFICER! THAT MAN OFFENDED ME! HE COULD HAVE STARTED A RIOT BECAUSE I CANNOT HANDLE SUCH AN OVERT DISPLAY OF IRISH CATHOLICISM PROVOCATION”.

I mean, we all have things we get offended by, but the vast majority of football fans, of all colours, tend to look like hypocrites fairly quickly when the he-said-she-said starts.

Now, this is where I step aside and comment that there are two different things going on. In the rather binary world of Scottish football, it maybe isn’t possible to say this, but here goes. You can argue that Neil Lennon acted like a bit of a cock on Saturday, but maybe, just maybe, this doesn’t mean he deserves the treatment that he receives.

It’s not complicated, really. Saying that a manager behaved rather twattishly doesn’t mean you are justifying the reaction towards him, or that he somehow “brings it on himself”. It doesn’t work, and frankly to suggest as such is something of a cop-out, as if football fans are all automatons who cannot be held responsible for their own behaviour.

If you need a laugh, and in this day and age I think we all do, the Club 1872 statement is a thing of wonder, and not just because Club 1872 sounds like a truly appalling holiday company.

“I went on a Club 1872 holiday last month”

“Really, where did you go?” 

“The 17th century”

Ba-dum, and indeed, tish.

I don’t wish to analyse that display of outraged fist-typing from Club 1872 any more than it already has been, because plenty of people have done that better than I could. All I would say, is that for a serious statement, it reads like the most perfectly pitched piece of parody I have read in many a year. I’m only surprised that the laptop belonging to whoever wrote it didn’t blow up under the sheer weight of the salty tears of seethe landing on it.

If someone had written that statement as a parody of idiotic football supporters, it would have been such a good one they probably would have deserved a Pulitzer.

This wasn’t the worst overreaction to events, of course.

You have to marvel at the mind of someone who, on seeing Lennon’s gesturing, feels that the best way to react is by going onto a social network to write death threats.

Leaving aside the abhorrent morality of such a reaction, as if a reaction like that is in any way proportionate to what Lennon may or may not have done, to do something like that is utterly stupid. It’s almost as if people still think, despite all evidence to the contrary, you have some sort of immunity when posting online, like the laws somehow don’t apply to you, or you won’t get caught. Bollocks.

People this stupid don’t deserve computers. Or football. Or anything, really.

Nothing will change as a result of this. Lennon may or may not get sanctioned by the SFA, Rangers fans will continue to be bigoted towards him and he will probably continue to wind them up, mostly down to his mere existence.

Meanwhile, a fanbase who spend their most recent game live on TV singing so many IRA songs that the host broadcaster decided to mute them will claim the moral high ground, and the whataboutery will continue, and absolutely nothing will get done. We’ll keep getting told about the “Scottish football problem”, even though only 2 out of the 42 Scottish league clubs seem to be afflicted by it.

Round like a circle in a spiral, like a wheel within a wheel, never ending or beginning on an ever spinning reel.

It’s enough to make you wish for the nuclear war that Donald Trump and Kim Jong-Un seem determined to have. I can’t help thinking we have failed as a species.

 

dundee derby 2: dee harder

They tell me that the Belgrade derby between Partizan and Red Star is known as the Eternal Derby.

I am starting to know what that feels like.

If nothing else, the second Dundee derby proved to me that sequels are never as good as the original. This applies in all cases except for the Godfather 2, and the Hangover Part 2, which has the major advantage over the original in that it doesn’t have a convicted rapist in it.

Enough about convicted criminals though. Luckily there was none of them on show at Dens Park.

I must admit, the Dundee derby feels less of a stressful game for me than it is for most United fans. Perhaps living in Leith, you don’t get exposed to the game’s worst excesses, and there are certainly no Dundee fans at work to take the piss out of you.

There’s a certain distance there, which allows you to immunise yourself from all the disappointment. Also, it’s pretty hard to get lower than seeing your team be relegated there. Going out of the Betfred Cup is small beer by comparison.

This could, of course, all be some kind of psychological ploy to cushion the blow. I freely concede that.

I don’t even care for Wagner all that much, although based on what I saw last week he’s changed a lot since he did The Ring Cycle.

You do end up a casual bystander to all the Hibs v Hearts stuff though, capped by one of my favourite lines ever, when in the wake of their 5-1 defeat to Hearts in the 2012 Scottish Cup final, in a vain attempt to articulate just how bad the day had been a Hibs fan compared it to how I would feel if Dundee beat United 5-1 in a cup final.

I must admit, my powers of imagination are not that good. Nobody’s power of imagination are that good.

United got what they deserved out of the game, which was nothing. The players did what they could, but Dundee were just better. Pretty galling, but these things happen. Dundee were on their game, United were not, and night follows day.

There were not that many positives, but there were some. Jamie Robson was very good against Roarie Deacon, certainly a lot better than poor Tam Scobbie was in the first game. Some of United’s play, particularly either side of half time, was quite good (I’m already damning with faint praise here), and the players did quite well to cling on during the first 30 minutes when they were being battered. Although whether that was by luck or judgement, I am not entirely sure.

Fraser Fyvie looked better the longer the game went on, although he was a long way away from being fit. Seeing McDonald and Keatings get more minutes didn’t hurt either.

After a superb opening goal from Faissal El Bakhtaoui, United somehow got an equaliser which at the time seemed about as likely as an interesting piece of commentary from Steve Cram.

Billy King scored it, although we probably shouldn’t dwell on his miss near the end, as it’s much too depressing. Just add it to the many memories of watching United throughout the years which I have repressed.

Then Paul McGowan happened. Again, it was a very good goal, capped by his rather enthusiastic celebration.

It’s quite telling that his first thought after scoring that goal was to run towards the United fans sitting 90 yards away. Fair play, it was probably the finest moment of his career aside from the day he got that tag removed.

As provocative a celebration as it was, neither the referee nor the stewards seemed all that interested in stopping him. Nor were the United players, although that was entirely in keeping with how they dealt with him during the actual game.

The police were uninterested bystanders, perhaps grateful that McGowan was focussing on the United fans rather than them for a change.

Actually, I thought McGowan was Dundee’s best player on the night, although the sponsors did not.

As irritating as it may be, Dundee deserved to win. Their reward, such as it was, was a game against Celtic, assuming we haven’t all been nuked by then by a pissing contest between an insane manchild despot and Kim Jong-Un.

It would be just our luck to have our promotion campaign derailed by the end of the world. Fucking raging.

Dundee United go on to what are, in truth, more important matters like the Irn Bru Cup league.

The win over Inverness seemed a bit lucky to me, but was vital. United got a penalty early on, and scored it, but while Inverness had a lot of possession they didn’t do a great deal with it.

My memories of the game are rather clouded by the box of wine I drank before the game, so I might be misremembering.

In a related point, spending time in the players’ lounge afterwards made me realise just how short and fat I am. Imagine Danny DeVito in Twins, and you’re close.

Sarto Mutiny meets Ross Draper after the game

 

Pissed and hanging around with footballers. Living the dream over here, guys.

Given United’s pisspoor away form last season, a win over a team I assume will be a promotion rival is a pretty good way to start.

Also, given United’s pisspoor home record against Queen of the South last season, a win over them would be a very good way to continue.

Premiership sides are a class above anyone United will be competing against in the league. One small consolation is at least we won’t have to play against one for a while. Every cloud, eh?

The remit this year is to go up. That’s all. This is a squad built to get out of the Championship rather than compete with Premiership clubs.

Whether they will get out of the Championship is another matter. They are favourites, but there comes a point where you have to justify the tag.

Three points in Inverness is a good start, but that’s all it is.

And as disappointing as losing to Dundee is, it won’t matter a hill of beans if United go up.

If.

groundhog derby

It’s like one of those horrible computer games.

You know the ones. You strive to beat the end of level baddie. You work at it for ages, without success, until one day you actually manage to do it.

Brilliant, you think, as you walk through the door into the next room. And there it is. You have to fight him again.

Shit.

It would have been nice to bask in the relative success of beating Dundee on penalties, but fate had other ideas. It’s when you find out before you even manage to walk to the top of Provost Road that you’ll have to relive the whole bloody experience again on the 9th of August. That’s when you know the Gods don’t like you.

Dundee FC. Like that turd that just won’t flush.

There isn’t even a change of venue to keep things moderately interesting. I bet I end up in the same bloody seat.

The Betfred Cup is one of the quirks that keeps Scottish football interesting, where you can beat a team on penalties and then get drawn against them in the next round 5 minutes later.

The game itself was enjoyable, although I suspect it wouldn’t have been for a neutral. United competed well after a shaky start, and took the lead just before half time. It was a great move, with some good play from Scott Fraser and Sam Stanton saw the ball arrive to the Magnificent Paul McMullan (as we now have to call him) who scored from a narrow angle past Scotland’s Number 1 Scott Bain.

I loved it. It’s so great to have a derby. I don’t miss many things about the Premiership, but the Dundee derby is one of them. It’s lucky we’re getting another one next week, really.

A full ground, two sets of fans swearing at each other, two managers who understand the importance of the occasion (even though both clubs had already qualified for the next round, barring a freak result) and to top it off a typically slapstick refereeing performance from Kevin Clancy. What more could you want?

Actually, as I said at the time, the more I see of Kevin Clancy, the less I wonder why Nadir Ciftci once tried to strangle him.

The only other highlights of the first half was King Billy hitting the bar, and the mother and father of all rain showers. Feel free to insert your own joke about Dundee fans and washing.

The first half was just a build up to half time, where we were treated to a half time draw conducted by X Factor loser and legendary singing attention seeker Wagner. I do feel a measure of sympathy for Wagner, in the sense that I too will do literally anything for 20 quid.

Wagner. Actual Wagner.

Wagner also had the advantage being at Dens Park of knowing for the first time in quite some time he was in a place where he did not have the least fashionable haircut.

Dundee deservedly equalised after half time, assisted by Scott “Nine Games” Allan. They could, and probably should, have won the game. If the interestingly named Roarie Deacon had been able to cross the ball, they probably would have done.

His ability to repeatedly run past Tam Scobbie could not be questioned, however, and is an obvious concern for the next game.

Before the equaliser, the otherwise anonymous Moussa scored an offside goal from a shot by Scott Allan which might have been going in anyway. The five or so seconds between the flag going up and the fans in the Derry realising the flag had gone up was the most entertainment I have had in years.

I hope the guy who invaded the pitch in delight at the “goal” and who subsequently got lifted felt that the whole experience was worth it. I know I did.

So we were treated to the first ever Dundee derby penalty shoot out to determine who would win the group, NOT THAT IT ACTUALLY FUCKING MATTERED AS IT TURNED OUT.

Paul McMullan scored, and Faissal El Bakhtaoui didn’t. The next few penalties were successful. Even Lewis Toshney scored, and the roar from the United fans when he did had more than a small element of surprise to it.

Logan Chalmers, who had just come on presumably so he could take a penalty, took United’s fourth kick and in truth didn’t look like a man all that keen on the idea. His penalty was fairly weak, although in mitigation if Scott Bain had been any further off his line he’d have been sitting beside me in the away end.

Luckily, the aforementioned Roarie Deacon has his penalty saved by Harry Lewis, and United had won. Some good natured taunting was launched at the few Dundee fans who were left in the ground who angrily shouted back to show how totally not bothered they were.

But they do have a chance for revenge next Wednesday. Who knows, we might actually have a fit striker by then. Maybe Roarie Deacon will have remembered how to cross. Anything could happen.

I can’t wait.

 

 

 

dirty rotten scoundrels

Most sports people are cheats.

It sounds like rather a bold statement, but let’s be honest. We’re talking about high pressure environments, where a lot of money and prestige is at stake and the rewards are great. The people involved are highly competitive, and quite frankly would beat up their granny to get a positive outcome.

The pursuit of what 1970s Formula 1 driver Mark Donohue called “the unfair advantage” has been as much a part of sport as training, diet, analysis and the like. Perhaps more so.

Look at any football game. There will be diving, feigning injury and the waving of imaginary yellow cards after minimal contact. All cheating, if a little low level.

It’s virtually impossible to get to the top in any sport without a significant amount of ruthlessness. And sometimes, this ruthlessness will manifest itself in outright dishonesty.

Goldman’s Dilemma is a good place to do a little bit of light reading on the matter, if you’re interested.

The recent scandals involving state-sponsored doping in Russia has brought the story back in a big way, although given they only finished 4th in the medal table at the 2012 Olympics while all this was going on (behind Team GB), it might lead one to wonder what Vladimir Putin was actually getting for all his money.

It’s not a new phenomenon. The “winner” of the 1904 Olympic marathon only won because, as it was later discovered, he had travelled 11 of the 26 miles by car.

I’m not naïve. I am a cycling fan. I can’t afford to be.

But herein lies the problem. Too much cheating, and the sport goes through a looking glass. Excellence is not viewed by seasoned watchers as something to be celebrated, but something to be questioned.

I love cycling, and I have nothing but admiration for each and every pro cyclist, because it is a tough, tough sport. The rewards are not that high when compared with a lot of other sports, and the risks are massive.

You try descending a mountain at 60mph with a wall (or worse, a sheer drop) on your outside. These people are heroes. They are, without exaggeration, risking their lives every single day.

But do I believe it? Not really.

When Lance Armstrong won his 7th Tour de France in 2005, on the victory podium at the end of the race he gave a speech rather reminiscent of Father Ted’s Golden Cleric victory speech.

“…and now we move on to liars…”

One line stuck out, and in time once the truth came out it became a stick to beat him with. “I’m sorry you can’t dream big. I’m sorry you don’t believe in miracles”. In the end, we found out that miracles simply don’t happen.

Lance smiles as he realises the SPFL have the results of his dope test and have no appetite to do anything

It’s a juggling act sports have to deal with. What do we do about the cheats? We catch too many, the sport lacks credibility. We don’t catch enough, the sport also lacks credibility.

What do we do with the cheats once we catch them? This is where the SPFL come in.

It’s rare in this day and age for cheating to be uncovered immediately as it was with Ben Johnson, for example. As the Armstrong case proved, it’s almost always years after the fact.

But what you get is a situation where people vote for self interest. Water under the bridge. Mustn’t rock the boat. Look forward, not back. Etc.

It won’t do. Not in itself.

The SPFL are the clubs. And the clubs don’t appear to have the moral courage to enforce their own rules. Which shows, if nothing else, that the people involved are utterly unsuited towards making these decisions.

They’d tried to soften us up, with their talk of “no appetite” and the releasing of statements and spin through favourable journalists, who really should be asking the sort of questions implied in the job title. These are the same people who tried to foist the new Rangers on us in 2012, and tried their damnedest to parachute them into the Premiership, until the clubs, forced as they were by their own supporters, decided otherwise. So the decision, when it came, was no surprise to anyone.

That SPFL statement in full

I find it interesting that the SPFL seem so keen in hiding behind the minutiae of its own rules now, given the then governing body ran a coach and horses through their own rules by letting new Rangers into the league in the first place.

If a club had won several titles due to a systematic doping programme? If, instead of EBTs, Rangers had loaded their players with EPO, there wouldn’t be an issue. Sure, because everyone knows Doping Is Bad.

Why financial doping is not viewed in the same way is not entirely clear to me.

Much has been made of the Lord Nimmo Smith decision, which was, rather stupidly as it turned out, made years before the appeals process was completed. The entire decision was made on the assumption that the EBTs were a lawful tax avoidance scheme, and therefore were based on an entirely incorrect premise. To suggest now, when we know that the EBTs were unlawful, that this decision still stands and to have a new enquiry amounts to some kind of double jeopardy simply will not do.

Whether you are cynical enough to believe the timing of the LNS decision was expediency is entirely up to you. I couldn’t possibly comment.

Putting it in its most basic terms, this unlawful tax avoidance scheme allowed Rangers to sign players they could not otherwise afford. That’s it.

Given Sir David Murray said as much under oath, who am I to argue?

It seems obvious to me – surely the whole point in engaging in tax avoidance is to sign players they couldn’t otherwise afford? Otherwise, what’s the point?

As the press release says, “I doubt the prospects of a complaint under Rule A3.1 succeeding. Firstly, there can be no complaint against Newco. That company cannot be in breach of Rule A3.1 because this is an SPL Rule and Newco is not subject to those rules. With regard to Oldco and the club, it is open to question whether the implementation of a tax avoidance scheme is inconsistent with the utmost good faith because tax avoidance is lawful. If the Supreme Court upholds the decision of the Court of Session the result will be that the tax avoidance scheme will have failed but I doubt that it is appropriate to reinterpret past events in light of a court ruling that comes at least 4 years later. The mere fact that the scheme is ultimately held to have been ineffective does not mean that when the scheme was being applied the club and Oldco acted with less than the utmost good faith”.

Well…that’s interesting. I’m no lawyer, but it seems a bit odd to me that it is not “appropriate to reinterpret past events in light if a court ruling that comes at least 4 years later“, given the reason it took 4 years for a court ruling is because that is how long the process takes. You appeal, they appeal, and off it goes to the Supreme Court. It takes time. To in effect time bar this by citing the length of time the legal process actually takes seems somewhat perverse. Showing again how daft it was having the LNS report before the legal process was actually completed.

Should there really be a time bar on cheating?

Also, claiming good faith because tax avoidance is lawful? Doping is not, as yet, illegal in this country. Besides, the Supreme Court ruled the use of EBTs in this instance wasn’t lawful.

If lying to HMRC and the use of side letters is “good faith”, I’d hate to see what bad faith looks like.

The second point I took from this exercise in sweeping under the carpet was, in simplistic terms, we can’t punish new Rangers for the sins of old Rangers.

“The second possibility relates to non-payment of tax. The SPFL now has rules requiring tax to be paid when ‘due’. Those rules were first introduced after Oldco ceased to member of the SPL. The Rules define the date when a formally contested tax liability is considered to fall ‘due’: it falls due when the tax dispute is resolved. That day will only come when the Supreme Court announces its decision. Assuming that the Supreme Court holds that there is a tax liability in respect of the EBT scheme that will be a liability of Oldco (not the club under the current ownership of Newco). There can be no complaint by the SPFL against Oldco because that company is not a member. I have been asked whether it would be possible to bring a complaint against the club on the basis that the SPFL Rules can be construed as referring to any tax due in respect of the activities of a club, even by a past owner. While the point is not entirely free from doubt it is my opinion that the Rules do not apply to tax due by former owners and, therefore, it would not be possible to bring a complaint against Rangers (and Newco) in respect of any failure by Oldco to pay tax”.  

The old club/company separation reverse ferret with pike. 5.9 from the Romanian judge.

Clubs will pursue the bottom line. To quote the song, it’s all about the Benjamins. We saw this in 2012 when Rangers died. At my own club, it’s pretty common knowledge that Stephen Thompson would have let new Rangers into what was then the SPL until fan pressure forced him to think otherwise. This situation was mirrored at other clubs. Illustrating that clubs who have such a financial stake in the decision shouldn’t be the ones making the decision. I fully understand why clubs cannot act objectively in such a situation.

This is slightly different to what unfolded five years ago, given that due to the timing of this decision the clubs already have your season ticket money. We don’t have the financial hold over our clubs that we had in 2012.

I wouldn’t pretend to know at this stage what action we fans need to take, but action does need to be taken. This cannot be allowed to end here.

Any gesture of stripping titles would be largely symbolic, of course it would. That’s not really the point. You can’t undo the wrongs, but what you can do is acknowledge them.

Have an asterisk if that helps. Or have no winners, as what happened in the Tour de France from 1999 to 2005.

Symbolism matters. It makes a difference when you look at record books and you know that the name alongside the word “winners” shouldn’t be there, because the title was not gained fairly. It taints the whole spectacle.

The sport cannot move on until the sins of the past are acknowledged. It doesn’t provide, as much as I hate this word, closure.

People may keep watching, but they won’t always believe what they are watching.

A lot of shit Blondie puns

Saturday 15 July 

Betfred Cup: Group C

Dundee United 2 Raith Rovers 0

Yay! Football’s back!

As always with a close season, it feels like it’s never been away, what with meaningless international tournaments and court cases.

We learned during the close season that if you embark on a systemnatic programme of cheating is not enough for the Scottish Football Association to think they should be taking the titles won during said cheating from you.

Good news for the new Dundee United team doctor, a Mr L Armstrong of Austin, Texas.

No point in covering old ground, as my opinion on this matter has already been given. It all still applies.

Now, we move on to teams who pay their taxes.

It’s only been seven weeks since that soul destroying defeat at Hamilton which meant another season of Championship purgatory. I found that defeat even more depressing than the game against Dundee in which we were actually relegated, which if nothing else proves what an utter bastard hope can be.

The squad looks very different, with something of a cealrout taking place for teh second consecutive close season. Like the previous year, it was hard to argue a case for any of these players staying, even allowing for the fact that quite a lot of these players ended up at Premiership clubs.

We all knew Simon Murray was leaving for Hibs, but tweeting a picture of himself grinning inanely in a Hibs training top the day after the Hamilton game seemed a bit too soon. Rather like the sort of guy who would shag your wife at your funeral. Let’s face it, we all have a friend who would.

It’s a bit harsh, as whatever else you could accuse Simon Murray of, a lack of effort is not one of them. Unlike many others who played for United over the last couple of seasons.

A new season brings a new team, and the excitement that brings. Make no mistake, it’s imperative that United win promotion this season. It’s a big year for the manager, for whom the jury is still out to a certain extent.

Given the squad of player we had last season, getting to the playoffs was a par score. The right type of signings have been made, but the squad does lack quality in certain positions. Finances are limited though, and as much as the manager has promised a few more signings, gaps in the squad are probably inevitable when at this level.

It’s always good to see new players befor etheir flaws become glaringly apparent. As much as we have been burned by a plethora of crap in the last few years, there is still always the hope that the Dutch player you have never heard of before is more Nadir Ciftci than Rodney Sneijder.

The new signings have already achieved more than Sneijder did, given we have got more than 21 minutes out of them.

And yet, when you walk towards the ground, it’s strangely reassuring. Like you’ve never been away. In an ever changing and uncertain world, your football club is one of your few constants. And always will be, assuming your club doesn’t run up a huge tax bill and die.

I do like the new League Cup format, although I wish it had thrown up different teams. I say this purely for selfish reasons – I would have liked a trip to Buckie for the sheer novelty value, but it wasn’t possible to go on a Wednesday night. Raith and Cowdenbeath are both teams United played last season (indeed, we’re playing Cowdenbeath at home again in the Irn Bru Cup in August). The Dundee game carries a level of baggage I can’t really be bothered with, as it turns a fairly pressure free group of games into something a lot more intense. The League Cup shouldn’t be United’s priority, but being drawn against our friends from across the street makes it one.

Raith Rovers are a side who were relegated from the Championship last year, which is quote hard to reconcile with a team who were the better side in at least two of the four games between the clubs last season. With the experienced Barry Smith in charge, I would expect them to win League One this season fairly easily.

The game itself started like the glorified pre season friendly that it was. The first half was only noticeable for the terrifying number of seagulls flying above the home end (which I suppose is marginally preferable to dead foxes), and some equally terrifying goalkeeping from Deniz Mehmet.

SEAGULLS

Deniz sclaffed a clearance straight at a Raith Rovers player, who passed to a team mate with an open goal, until Mark Durnan appeared out of nowhere to clear the ball with defending which defied the laws of physocs.

United’s Twitter feed referred to Deniz as “The Menace”, and while this echoed the thoughts of most United fans at that point, it’s not a nickname I want to see sticking. If we must have a nickname, some kind of Blondie reference would do. Deniz Deniz.

There are some jobs where being nicknamed “The Menace” is a good thing. Goalkeeping is not one of them.

It got better in the second half, as the United players slowly began to remember how to play football.

On the hour mark, a good move between Billy King and Scott Fraser led to the ball landing at the feet of Paul McMullan on the edge of the box, and he curled a lovely shot past the Rovers keeper.

One downside to being related to Dunfermline fans is that you end up watching Dunfermline a fair bit, and I was always impressed by McMullan last season. I am optimistic that he’ll be a big player for us, as much as I fear I may have now cursed the poor bastard.

Seeing a United winger track back, run at players and make tackles is something of a novelty, but if he keeps that up I’m sure the culture shock will wear off soon enough.

The second goal arrived not long afterwards. 

Sam Stanton, who had only just come on, was bundled over in the box and James Keatings scored the penalty with the minimum of fuss.

Stanton is another player who I am a fan of, and I am glad he’s at United. The last mnute nature of his signing was illustrated by the fact that he wasn’t a Dundee United player when I left the house to go to the game. Like him, I had to head up from Leith. I should have asked for a lift.

United could have scored more, but settled for the 2-0 win. Deniz Deniz did get the chance to make a good save towards the end, which sent the home fans into rapture. After his earlier howler, you’d have to have a heart of glass not to be pleased for him.

 

It was a win, a clean sheet, and none of the players disgraced themselves. The new signings all did alright. A good day’s work.

Like the adult population of Glasgow, we will be spending next Wednesday night concentrating on Buckie. The game is something of a banana skin, but is a game United should win, and win well. Although, I will admit the word “should” is doing a lot of the heavy lifting in that last sentence.

If nothing else, it’s another game to get the players closer to match fitness for the derby and the league season, which is really what matters.

Trumped

That was a fun afternoon.

In an enjoyable game played in perfect conditions,  Dundee United comfortably progressed to the next round of the Scottish Cup against a surprisingly lacklustre Ross County side.

Two goals from Tony Andreu, coupled with some excellent defending and goalkeeping, saw United through to the next round to play Dundee, who easily beat the Championship’s worst team in St Mirren.

I wish.

Seeing as fake news is all the rage at the moment, I just wanted a piece of the action. I’m sure my job offer from Breitbart is on its way.

The truth, as inconvenient as it is, is that United were abysmal.

I’d love to be able to blame the conditions. Really, I would. But that would be rather disingenuous.

To use the old Blackadder line, it started badly, tailed off a little in the middle, and the less said about the ending the better, but aside from that it was excellent.

Maybe the doubt that the game would go ahead affected the players. Maybe not. I’m not sure we should really be looking for any excuses, other than ineptitude.

The main issue the fog which covered Dingwall last Saturday generated was the 800 or so United fans being unable to see half of the pitch for the first hour of the game. I imagine the Ross County fans behind the other goal had similar problems.

Whatever considerations referee Kevin Clancy had about whether the game should go ahead or not, evidently the people who had paid to watch were not among them.

Thinking about it now, being charged £20 to watch half a football game is an appalling way to treat supporters. At the time, I almost felt so relieved that my three hour journey to Dingwall had not been wasted that I was almost content to take what I could get.

No matter. We all know by now where the people who actually pay to go to games are in the overall pecking order in this country.

The first Ross County goal was a great training ground move, and while it could certainly have been defended better, it was an excellent finish from Christopher Routis.

The equaliser from Tony Andreu was every bit as good a finish, although had I been able to actually see it at the time it would have been a nice bonus. I did get to see it on TV the day after though, which is what really matters.

Then the roof fell in, and after a defensive performance with all of the coherence of Theresa May’s Brexit plan, United found themselves 4-1 down after half an hour of football.

Cammy Bell was certainly at fault for at least two of those goals. For the second goal he parried a free kick straight onto the head of Paul Quinn, and as much as the ball was swerving in the air he should have done better than to palm the ball across the face of his own goal.

For the third goal, again he was unlucky in the sense that he palmed the ball straight to Tim Chow who finished well, but if we’re being honest he should have dealt with the cross from Christopher Routis a lot better than he did.

The third Ross County goal did interrupt a rousing chorus of “What a waste of money” from the away fans as we saw the players come towards us slowly emerging through the fog, like a bad horror movie.

We decided to amuse ourselves by trying to get the game abandoned, given that conditions were getting worse. As much as the game probably should have been abandoned at this point, our pleas were more in hope than expectation. We were chanting to the effect that we couldn’t see what was going on (although in slightly less polite terms than this), and booing the referee for keeping the game going, but this was a vain hope.

A fourth goal, this one from Liam Boyce, did nothing to improve the mood.

We’ll never know, but I do have the feeling that Kevin Clancy might have been more open to abandoning the game had it been level. However, it takes a gutsy referee to abandon a game when the score is 4-1…

Tony Andreu, who played very well in a game of few highlights for United, made it 4-2 just before half time after some generous defending from the home team, although again we didn’t really see it at the time. No United player really celebrated the goal, which led to a fair amount of confusion given nobody saw the ball hit the net.

There was a lot of United pressure after half time, although no real chances were created. Had United pulled it back to 4-3 then Ross County may have folded, but they didn’t.

Two late goals for Ross County, one from another error by Bell, and one as a result of some rather lame play from Scott Fraser, made the scoreline embarrassing.

Annoyingly, by this stage we could now see the opposite end of the pitch so we managed to experience the full horror of those two goals, as if the Gods were somehow mocking us.

The whole experience was rather sobering, and makes me a lot more worried about the possibility of playing a Premiership side in a play off than I was before the game. Not that United are guaranteed to get that far.

In the end, an astonishing run of 15 consecutive appearances in the quarter finals of national cup competitions  (16 if we include the Irn Bru Cup of Irrelevance) is over.

The big question is what is the real Dundee United? Is it the well organised side who recently fell three minutes short of setting a club record for not conceding a goal? Or is it the shambolic rabble who have lost 12 goals in their last three games?

If it’s the former and this is simply a blip, then things will hopefully be fine. If it’s the latter, then we’re in severe trouble.

It’s not quite the time to panic yet. I’m not pretending that recent form has been anything other than horrible, but we’re still in second place. Although Morton are getting uncomfortably close, it must be said.

This is a rather limited group of players who, if they do not play to their absolute maximum, will struggle to win games even at Championship level. Against a Premiership side, the won’t stand a chance.

At the risk of stating the bloody obvious, we need to ensure we get to the playoffs before we can worry about that.

Lose to Dunfermline on Saturday, then it may very well be time to panic. If the league cannot be won, then second place is the minimum required.

Despite everything, I’ll just be grateful if I can actually see the game this time.

a lame attempt at mindless optimism

I’m going to try and be optimistic.

Not easy after you have seen your team receive such a comprehensive beating at the hands of your title rivals. But here goes.

The game at Easter Road, from a United point of view at least, was awful. A game in which the many inadequacies of Dundee United’s squad were ruthlessly exposed by what was admittedly an excellent performance from Hibs. They hit us with width and pace, and we simply couldn’t cope.

We played with three holding midfielders, all of whom had stinkers. Our full backs, who are slightly dubious at the best of times, were left exposed by the lack of cover in front of them, and our hitherto excellent goalkeeper had a bit of a nightmare for two of the goals. Our gameplan seemed to be to play long balls up to a striker who isn’t really a striker, and who simply could not hold the ball up. A perfect storm of ineptitude, you might say.

Given the events on the park, and the evident gulf between the two teams, it seems vaguely surreal to think that United were ahead of Hibs in the league less than two weeks ago.

Looking at the bigger picture, being four points behind the league leaders at this stage is not a bad position to be in.

Neil Lennon was very quick before the game to dismiss talk of United’s title challenge being a ‘miracle’, but in truth it probably is.

One look at the team sheet on Friday night would have told you all you needed to know.

Hibs can bring players of the calibre of John McGinn off the bench, and we can’t. While it was good to see a young Scottish player like McGinn come back from a bad injury, it really wasn’t necessary for the United players to give him a free shot on goal. Although the game was lost well before we decided to recreate the parting of the Red Sea.

It’s easy to say with hindsight, but given recent performances a beating like this was always on the cards.

Leaving the defeat to Dumbarton on Hogmanay to one side, the fourteen game unbeaten run which preceded that defeat was remarkable for the way United had very few dominant performances during that run. Only two wins were by more than a single goal.

The good run was built on excellent defensive performances and sheer bloody-mindedness more than flair football. This actually represents progress after last season, so I’m not complaining.

By and large, the attitude of the players this season, and the ability to keep on keeping on has impressed me. This made the rabbit in the headlights performance at Easter Road all the more shocking, as while I expected that United would be outplayed, I certainly did not expect them to be outfought.

The league is not over, despite the feeling that last week’s result could have been pivotal. There’s still eighteen games to go, after all. The fight and grit which contributed towards the 14 game unbeaten run can be recreated.

It might very well take another lengthy unbeaten run for United to keep pace with Hibs. So be it. It’s not impossible, although when you start using language like “not impossible” it’s a bit of a hint that your chances are not high.

Hibs will not drop many points. That means United cannot afford to drop too many either. Four points is not a big gap at this stage of the season, but having lost the last two games, United are rather lacking in momentum. All of a sudden, the upcoming game against Queen of the South looks huge.

Hibs are at Dumbarton on Saturday, and with all due respect to a team United have failed to beat at their ground in two attempts this season, I can’t realistically see Hibs dropping any points there. Although it will be a tough game, they should have too much for their opponents.

With that in mind, United cannot allow the gap to get any bigger. Also, bearing in mind Morton are seven points behind United with a game in hand, United cannot give any encouragement to them teams below them. Having got into this position, if United can’t win the league, it’s absolutely imperative they finish second to make the route through the playoffs as simple as possible.

United will not be able to spend as much money as Hibs can, but they have made a start with the signing of Thomas Mikkelsen, doubling the number of strikers at the club. This is assuming he hasn’t run screaming back to Denmark given what he saw on Friday night.

Ray McKinnon has said he wants to sign another striker and a winger, which reassuringly is exactly what we need. Getting Nadir Ciftci back is obviously the dream, as I miss that mad so and so much more than any grown man should. If United just bring him back so he can do nothing more than stand up front brooding intensely, that would probably do for me.

I can think of plenty of United strikers throughout the years who have contributed much less than this.

We’ll see at the end of the month. In the meantime, all we need to do is try and start winning again. It sounds so simple when it’s put like that. The margin for error is small.

But it’s not done. Not yet.

On Malky Mackay

It probably shouldn’t have been a surprise, in truth.

Given that we live in a world where admitting to repeated sexual assault is no barrier to becoming President of the United States, so the SFA’s decision to appoint Malky Mackay as Performance Director is just the way this planet appears to be heading right now.

Let’s leave aside what a pathetic failure he was in his last job at Wigan. To be perfectly honest, his talents are not relevant. If they were, we’d have to create some sort of system to ascertain how talented someone would be before we were willing to overlook any of their prejudices.

His ability, or lack thereof, are not the issue here.

If anything, the reaction from certain quarters has angered me more than the appointment itself.

The circumstances of Mackay’s departure from Cardiff have at best been glossed over, and at worst has never even been mentioned. This is absolute journalistic cowardice. Are they hoping we might have forgotten? I realise certain people were touting their pal for the top job all along, but don’t insult our intelligence by rewriting history.

You’re no longer journalists, guys. You’re cheerleaders. And you insult us all by pretending that there is not a massive fucking bigoted elephant in the room. What the fuck are you all so afraid of?

And yet, on the hagiographies went.

Mackay was described on Sportsound as “an excellent networker with great people skills”, and at the same time his agent (perhaps unsurprisingly) described him as “a talented individual and a good man with good values who wants to get back to work”, which if nothing else proves that the death of irony has been greatly exaggerated.

More strangely, Show Racism the Red Card said Mackay had undergone equality and diversity training, and “wished him well”.

Perhaps “Allow Racism To Have A Short Rehabilitation Period And Let’s Forget It Ever Happened” is a more appropriate title going forward. “Show Racism Some Mild Disapproval And Then Move On”, perhaps. “Ignore Racism When It Comes From Proper Football Men Who Have Spent Some Time In A Classroom”, maybe?

Lord Ouseley, the founder and chairman of the Kick It Out anti-racism group, said he believed Mackay now had a “better understanding” of diversity issues and deserved a second chance. Well, that’s a relief. He now knows racism is bad as he spent some time in a classroom being told that racism is bad.

Most of us manage to be Not Racist without ever having to be re-educated to that effect, but let’s not worry about that.

He also said Mackay’s new role would give him an opportunity to “put himself back in a state where he can prove that he is a good person, and a person capable of performing both in football terms, and how he treats people”.

Excellent. The SFA are now using the Performance Director role to enable discredited people to launder their reputations.

As, based on the deferential reception Mackay was getting, I was beginning to doubt my own senses, I decided to seek out these infamous text messages. Had I imagined them? Let’s revisit them:

 

On the arrival of South Korean international Kim Bo-Kyung:

“Fkn chinkys. Fk it. There’s enough dogs in Cardiff for us all to go around.”

On football agent Phil Smith:

“Go on, fat Phil. Nothing like a Jew that sees money slipping through his fingers”

On transfer target list:

“Not many white faces amongst that lot but worth considering.”

On a player’s female agent:

“I hope she’s looking after your needs. I bet you’d love a bounce on her falsies.”

On an official at another club:

“He’s a snake, a gay snake. Not to be trusted”

To members of Cardiff’s staff:

A picture entitled ‘Black Monopoly’ – where every square was a “Go to Jail” square

So that’s (deep breath) racism, anti-Semitism, racism again, sexism, homophobia, and racism again.

Your new Performance Director, ladies and gentlemen!

We’ve all made mistakes, of course. But these aren’t mistakes. Reversing into another car is a mistake. Drinking too much and falling down some stairs is a mistake. Losing your keys is a mistake.

Repeated bigotry over a prolonged period of time is not a mistake. It’s a reflection of your character.

Given the appalling and ignorant treatment of Ian Cathro last week, a man who may have no playing experience, but is not, as far as anyone is aware, racist, homophobic, sexist or anti-Semitic, it shows where the priorities lie.

A man is judged as having poor man management on how he apparently behaved on a coaching course seven years ago, but a man who sent a that Black Monopoly picture three years ago? He’s fine, apparently. No problems. He understands players. He can manage people. He’s not one of those bloody hipsters.

 

Until he has to manage someone black, or Jewish, or gay, or female, presumably.

He’s a Proper Football Man. A fully paid up member of the Old Boys Club that is Scottish football. Mark Warburton thinks he’ll be a success, and if we can’t trust a former City trader, who can we trust?

Warburton also accused Mackay’s critics of “lazy journalism”, which even for a man not averse from saying idiotic things is quite the statement. I guess accusing a man who has sent racist text messages of being racist is lazy by definition.

It’s lazy to judge a man purely on the basis of the things he says and does. Show a bit more imagination, guys.

Mind you, give the songbook Warburton has to hear from his own club’s supporters every week, he’s evidently a man with a very high tolerance thershold.

Besides, Mackay sent hundreds of text messages, and only a few of them were prejudiced.

The football community is closing ranks.

The football community can fuck off.

I am reminded of the old joke about the retiring town councillor, who in his leaving speech complained that despite his 40 years of distinguished public service and his many charitable donations, “You shag one sheep, and it’s all anyone ever wants to talk about”.

I do not know if Malky Mackay owns a laptop. If he does, given the state of his text messages I really wouldn’t want to see his emails.

When you boil it right down, the SFA have given the job of Performance Director to a man who while he was Cardiff manager did not appear to be aware that racism, anti Semitism, homophobia and sexism were Bad Things until he was sent on a training course. Which would, at the very least, suggest his judgement is rather lacking.

Besides, these text messages were sent in private. He felt able to broadcast his prejudices in the knowledge that no-one else would ever see them, or so he thought. This is his brain. Unedited. These are the thoughts of a man who thought no-one would ever know what he was saying, and makes any protestation of rehabilitation rather meaningless.

He never really apologised, anyway. After a risible attempt to explain away the messages as “banter”, he issued that classic non-apology of “I apologise if anyone was offended”, which always places the onus on anyone who was offended rather than the remarks themselves.

We were not offended. You were offensive. Not the same thing.

He also claimed that he was stressed. I’m no expert, but I am fairly sure that racism is not a side effect of being stressed. Still, as I have never managed a football club, and am therefore not a Proper Football Person, what would I know?

He wrote those messages, and sent them, while at no point ever considering that they may have been inappropriate. Maybe because he didn’t think they were inappropriate.

The text messages were a window into his mind, his beliefs, his values.

Mind you, he hadn’t yet spent any time in from of a blackboard being told this type of behaviour was prejudiced, so how was he to know?

If any club wanted to appoint Mackay, that’s their lookout. It would be for that club’s fans to decide whether it was acceptable.

But this is different. He has been appointed at Performance Director for the Scottish Football Association. He will be responsible for the development of Scottish football. All of it. Including any Scottish players who may be black, or gay, or Jewish, or female. At this level a higher standard should be expected. If not delivered.

From my own point of view, you know what the worst thing about this is?

I want him to fail.

It disgusts me that I am reduced to this level, to be so consumed by hate. Not quite on the scale Mackay was, but hate nonetheless. Hatred of my national association for appointing this man.

I am a fan of Scottish football, and here I am in the position that I want the man in charge of the development of the game in this country to fail. If he fails, Scottish football continues to fail. I’m beginning to doubt I will live to see Scotland in another major tournament, and that saddens me.

But, to take the contrary view, Scotland’s success is his success. If he makes a success of the job, and if Scottish football has an unlikely renaissance on his watch, I won’t be able to see past the man who talked of “gay snakes” and “fucking Chinks”. Every word that comes out of his mouth will be tainted like, to use a Bill Hicks phrase, a turd falling into my drink. So I don’t want him to succeed. I do not want Scottish football to be polluted by this excuse for a man.

The next time you see a “Show Racism The Red Card” display, remember it’s all fucking lies. If the SFA were truly committed to this premise, they wouldn’t be appointing Mackay.

Rainbow laces to make a stand against homophobia? Bullshit. Not when our Performance Director has referred to the scourge of gay snakes.

We’re against anti-Semitism in football? Great. But wait, our Performance Director has felt comfortable enough in the recent past to use the most pathetic and cliched anti-Semitic tropes imaginable. So that’s evidently lip service at best.

Sexism? Given the recent success of the Scotland women’s team, I can only hope Mackay is not too distracted by the thought of “bouncing on their falsies” to try and build on that success. I just hope he is able to look after their needs.

This is the message the Scottish FA have chosen to project by appointing Malky Mackay. It shames them, and as Scottish football fans it shames all of us too.

Some things are beyond rehabilitation.

It’s alright, though. It’s only banter.

huge if true

It came down to two penalties in the end.

Penalties have been something of a recurring theme this season.

One day, Cammy Bell is going to concede a goal from a penalty kick. That is going to look weird.

As fantastic as Bell has been with penalties this season, I think I could have saved Martin Boyle’s rather insipid effort.

Grant Holt, who wanted to take the penalty, was so annoyed by events that he decided to pick a fight with Willo Flood a minute later, looking for all the world like a walrus with toothache as he stomped around the Tannadice pitch with a funk on. He was very lucky to not be sent off, as rather impressively he managed to elbow Tony Andreu in the face as he grappled with a man one foot shorter and about five stones lighter than him. And they say men can’t multitask.

United themselves got a penalty when a superb run from substitute Simon Murray was ended by a rather clumsy challenge from Liam Fontaine. A couple of Fontaine’s team mates had previously tried to stop the run, with Darren McGregor doing his best Bambi On Ice impression as Murray skipped past him.

I’m not sure exactly when McGregor stopped sliding, although I have heard he did need to pay to get back into the ground afterwards.

This was Murray at his best. I have often been a critic of him for what he can’t do, but using his pace and direct running at tiring defenders is something he is very good at. And his run in effect won United the game on Friday night.

There was no argument with either penalty. Unless you were Neil Lennon, obviously.

Tony Andreu calmly scored from the spot, and United held on without too many scares.

The game was interesting rather than eventful, with both side cancelling each other out to a certain extent. United had the better of the first half, and Hibs had the better of the second.

Although if you wanted to see any highlights of the game on terrestrial television, you’d have ended up disappointed. I may very well be labouring this point, but it’s worth reiterating how utterly absurd that is.

But all of a sudden, Dundee United are level on points with Hibs, which no-one could have foreseen two months ago. United fans are starting to think that maybe, just maybe, we might actually win this league.

There are plenty of reasons to be optimistic. Cautiously optimistic, of course. Let’s not get carried away just yet.

There will be additions in January. There has to be. The squad lacks numbers in certain positions, mainly left wing and up front. It’s also hard to shake the feeling that the team is heavily reliant on certain individuals, mainly Cammy Bell, William Edjenguele, Willo Flood and Tony Andreu. For as long as they all stay fit, it’s fine. If any of them got a long term injury, it could be a huge problem.

Ray McKinnon spoke after the game about his desire to add at least two players in January, which may or may not have been a plea to his chairman to loosen the purse strings.

You’d expect Hibs to make signings in January, especially given how tight the league is. Therefore United need to do so too if they are to keep pace. Hibs already have a stronger squad, which emphasises how well United have done to rein them in. The gap at the top was seven points not that long ago.

Having got themselves in this position, the club needs to fix the roof while the sun is shining. The work the manager and the players have done to get themselves into a share of the Championship lead is amazing. But if we’re being honest, it’s unlikely the current squad has the depth to win the league. Hibs will not lose many games this season.

Whatever happens from here on, Ray McKinnon has transformed a club which was utterly toxic and devoid of confidence into something which actually looks like a football team.

He has made United hard to beat. This is a big thing for us. Trust me, that’s something which has been beyond a couple of our recent managers.

The new signings have all played their part. Not all have been an unqualified success, but none have been failures. Given our reduced budget this season, McKinnon simply cannot afford to have the huge amount of failed signings our previous two managers had.

He was patient when many fans, myself included, were calling for signings during the summer. And by and large, the right signings were made. No longer do we have to suffer the scattergun panic signings we suffered for the preceding two seasons.

The players who were here last season have improved beyond all recognition. Even allowing for the level we are now playing at, the improvement we have seen this season in the likes of Scott Fraser, Charlie Telfer and especially Mark Durnan has been almost unbelievable.

It just shows the difference a competent manager can make. Playing alongside much better players than last season cannot hurt either.

There is a tough run of games coming up, including a visit to Easter Road in the first week of January.

United are on an unbeaten run of 11 games, although that will count for very little on the difficult away trips to Ayr and Kirkcaldy which are coming up.

Nothing is ever handed to you, even at this level.

Based on the post match comments of Scott Fraser, the United players seem content to go under the radar. The pressure, as always, is on Hibs.

However, if United keep playing like this, they won’t be under the radar for much longer.

up

Even though Dundee United had last Saturday off, I did take in some football over the weekend. I wish I hadn’t bothered, in truth.

I watched the Premiership highlights with what can be best described as uninterested detachment.

It seems odd to say given how sore relegation was at the time, but there is not much I actually miss about being in the Premiership.

I’m not saying I wouldn’t want United to be promoted. Even for me, that would be a rather perverse thing to say.

I miss the Dundee derbies, of course. To a lesser extent, I miss the games against Aberdeen. Those games have an intensity that, with all due respect to all of our Championship opponents, is not something we are going to experience at this level all that often, if at all.

Any United fan who claims to miss playing either of the Glasgow behemoths is either disturbingly masochistic or really enjoys paying obscene amounts of money to sit behind a pillar or to have songs sung at them about 17th century battles for 90 minutes. Hey, each to their own.

The weekend culminated with Celtic taking on Aberdeen in one of the most one sided sporting contests since a Roman emperor decided to stick some Christians in the same stadium as some lions, just to see what would happen. Frankly, it was a waste of an hour and a half unless you cared who won. Great for Celtic, bad for Aberdeen, an absolute non event for everyone else.

The game made United’s abject display in the League Cup final against the same opponents less than two years ago look resilient. Well, almost.

These days, when I watch a sporting contest, in any sport, if I don’t have any partisan interest I have next to no interest in watching what amounts to a victory procession. I don’t really want to be at least 90% sure who will win before the damn thing even starts. Having said that, I did watch the Formula 1 that same day, which did prepare me for the League Cup final in the sense that only one team was ever going to win that too.

I did see a comparison made with the sustained excellence of Andy Murray, although given Andy Murray isn’t world number 1 simply because he has five times as much money to spend on tennis rackets as Novak Djokovic, the comparison doesn’t quite work.

Given the chances of there being a title race in the Premiership is about as likely as me winning a Nobel prize, we should celebrate the fact that we do still have one in the Championship.

At least, for the time being.

On Friday night we have that unusual thing in Scottish football, a top of the table clash which actually means something. There are three points between Hibs and Dundee United, and this feels like a game that really matters. It’s certainly a novelty for United to be involved in a game as big as this without needing to use the words “relegation six pointer”.

With the points gap being what it is, if Dundee United have any ambitions of actually winning the Championship this season it’s important they do not lose. A draw, while not being ideal, would not be fatal to United’s league chances with so much of the season left. A three point lead for Hibs is not insurmountable. A six point lead, however, would be extraordinarily difficult to claw back. Even at this relatively early stage.

But to win the game and go level on points with Hibs would be miles ahead of the expectations of even the most optimistic United fans, given how United ended last season and began this one. What a springboard to go into the second half of the season that would be.

Especially so considering the refereeing conspiracy which has been taking place against Hibs this season. I do hope there is actually a conspiracy and it’s not just something their manager has made up to cover his own inadequacies. Having to put up with a neutral referee on Friday night will be such a comedown. I have been promised bias, and bias is what I expect.

At the time of writing, over 10,000 tickets have been sold for the game. There will be not far short of 3000 Hibs fans there. Even without taking into consideration that it’s a game which is on television, taking place at a time of year when traditionally every penny is a prisoner, that’s remarkable. It’s amazing, how if you get a game that actually means something, people will turn up and watch it? Pretty revelatory stuff, isn’t it?

For all the inevitable pre match talk of how these two clubs “should” be in the Premiership, both clubs are at this level because they deserve to be. As much as I think both teams are currently good enough to play in the top league, based on very little other than gut feeling, unless they actually get promoted there it doesn’t matter a whole lot.

Thanks to injuries, a Dundee United team with no strikers will be taking on a Hibs team with no midfielders. Well, not quite, but the certain absence of John McGinn and the probable absence of Fraser Fyvie will be a blow for Hibs. McGinn, in particular, is a wonderful player who can hurt better teams than United. Having said that, their squad is so strong that I wouldn’t expect them to be significantly weakened by those absences.

United have been excellent defensively for the last couple of months, but in the last few games, other than the win at Dumfries, they haven’t carried a huge goal threat. Whether the likelihood that Hibs will play a more open game than most recent opponents will actually help United remains to be seen.

It’s bound to be a tough game for United. But it will be a tough game for Hibs too.

An evening game, under floodlights, in front of a large crowd. A game that actually means something. What else could you possibly want? Aside for a United win, of course…