IT'S OSCARS NIGHT and the frocks have all been hired and tried, returned and swapped, then checked and double-checked for exclusivity. Soon the red carpet will be rolled out and the winners' envelopes stuck down. But what's this? A late, late bid for nomination ... it's a sequel ... the original is still showing in some outlets but it's dire ... why, then, would anyone want to watch (cue flatulent fanfare) SPL2?
Before we go any further, let's be clear: we're not talking about Citizen Kane 2 or The Treasure Of The Sierra Madre 2 or Sunset Boulevard 2 or Duck Soup 2. We're not even talking about Police Academy 8. No, this is SPL2, a spin-off from the longest,
grimmest, stupidest league in all football.
You might remember the Scottish Premier League's proposals for a second tier; I'd almost forgotten about them. It was way back in August 2006 that they were contested by the other divisions – the Scottish Football League – and passed to an independent arbitration panel. Incredibly, it's taken two and a half years for the answer to come back that the proposals are permissible. I say "incredibly" but the panel was clearly working to SPL-time where everything is dragged out, especially the too small, too repetitive, too unintentionally hilarious (viz: the split), league season.
So what happens now? No-one is sure, exactly. The SPL will hold talks, and after a refresher course on what SPL2 was about in the first place, the top 12 will decide if they still want to go ahead with the wizard wheeze. The SFL will hold talks, too, but I'd seriously advise the small clubs to think long and hard before getting involved with anything that has the letters S, P and L in the title, and especially after last Sunday.
The Old Firm derby is the SPL's showpiece fixture. No, it's the SPL's reason for being. For completely self-serving reasons, the Glasgow supremacists wanted to play each other four times a season instead of two, and the rest of us had to lump it. To continue with the film analogy, Celtic v Rangers is the main feature, we're the B-movies, to which the correct audience response is chatting loudly and throwing food.
The latest Old Firm encounter was under some pressure to be more than half-decent. Our clubs had been booted out of Europe and the national side were struggling. Please Celtic, and please Rangers, deliver unto us a stormer so we can briefly forget about our miserable, credit-crunched existence! The Old Firm would have fancied they could rise to this challenge because modesty doesn't become them.
The build-up to the game was the usual considered hype. Former stars were wheeled out to talk it up. Giovanni van Bronckhorst – who left the mighty Rangers to play for some diddy team called Arsenal and then an even diddier one, Barcelona – was among them. He was extremely polite to his panting radio interviewer, but didn't quite convince me that his world stops whenever the Old Firm resume hostilities. Recently he'd been on holiday with Henrik Larsson. Did they – gasp – discuss the Old Firm? "No," confirmed Van Bronckhorst.
Then, the match. The anti-footballists vs Lee Naylor and chums. What a shocker! And what a week for that arbitration panel to, in effect, send out a ringing endorsement of the SPL brand! The decision was as well-timed as a Naylor tackle or – let's even this up – a Dirk Bigfoot attempted trap, first between toe and shin, then on to the back of the neck.
Even if the big clubs still fancy the SPL2 sequel, most of the smaller ones will miss out on the dubious stardust. If you think of the SPL as being like an ocean-going liner, winching down the lifeboats, then it will be Dundee and Dunfermline Athletic first, and stuff the rest. If I think of movies about big boats, then Titanic hoves into view. Of course that was a terrible film, directed by a lunatic.
This lunatic would save oor fitba by creating a top division of 18 teams playing each other twice. Of course, the Old Firm would never go for that – millionaires must always triumph over slumdogs. But on the evidence of last Sunday's "blockbuster", my old friend Bobby Williamson may be right: if you want entertainment, go to the cinema.
