| The position of Bertie Vogts as
Scotland coach came under fire this week as the national team was drubbed by Austria at a
mostly empty Hampden. Following the 2-0 defeat by the Huns-Lite, critics
are asking if Herr Vogts should remain in charge.
Strangely bereft of the usual Germanic flair for speaking foreign languages it
is thought that Vogts finds it difficult to express tactical planning to his famously
monoglot charges, although the team seems to have no problem with the instruction to:
"play like ein Bunch von Diddies."
Following the defeat at the hands of the Part-Time Prussians squad, SFA
mandarins are currently trawling through a English-German dictionary to translate the
following handy hints for Bertie:
- Your tea’s oot.
- Here’s your coat, what’s your hurry?
|
- "You have our full support." Aye right.
- RyanAir do cheap one-way flights to Frankfurt. Here’s the number.
Meanwhile, the latest parade of pish has Tartan Army foot
soldiers vowing "never again." Leading psychologists have long attempted to
understand the workings of the Scottish football supporters’ mind set: the perennial
triumph of hope over experience, the utter futility of sitting there, game after game,
praying that this time they’ll actually dae something and the final, gut wrenching
realisation that there is no God.
Until the next time, that is, when a small flicker of irrational hope enters the
collective breast, the fevered scan of team selection, the sense of foreboding as the
ref’s whistle blows for kick off and, at the end of another 90 minutes of a life
squandered, the search for the cat to kick. |
