Silent stenographers and a revolutionary grandmother

Remember that hope stuff?

Well, after Fenian Blood Fest on January 2nd, plenty of it coursed through the Ibrox klanbase.

A few dignified comments on the back of this site were a testament to that.

However, it all dissipated rather quickly by the close of play at Easter Road yesterday.

As the featured image shows, Paddy Power rarely misses the mark.

That’s because the Irish outfit does not adhere to succulent protocols in Fair Caledonia.

The irrepressible Tadhg Hickey from Cork didn’t miss them either.

Today, I spoke with a well-placed source from the Ibrox firmament.

He related the broad outline of a dignified sit down between dear Philippe and the new CEO, Paddy Stewart.

The latter made it clear to the blamestorming Belgian that there should be no more going off script in press conferences.

Indeed, the narrative had to be approved beforehand with no solo runs.

Specifically, he wasn’t to answer any questions about budgets or transfer business unless authorised beforehand.

Here he is in his own words.

When he said, “I don’t have that money”, that should have set the hares running in the presser.

Instead, quelle surprise,  there was no follow-up question to get him to clarify his remarks.

That, dear reader, is journalism 101.

Sadly, on Planet Fitba, it is very, very rare.

In fairness, these chaps from Sevco fan media did pick up on it.

Now, for the avoidance of doubt, an evidence-based narrative for Sevco in this  transfer  is :

High earners out and loan deals in.

Anything else is succulent spin.

Meanwhile, the club formed by immigrants is ready to spend its own money on what Brendan and his colleagues consider the right player.

For example, would Celtic supporters consider  Josh Brownhill an upgrade?

As always, I’m agnostic on these matters that I have little knowledge of.

What I DO know about is what a functioning Fourth Estate looks like, and when it comes to matters Ibrox, there isn’t one in Scottish football.

There really isn’t.

 

 

Nollaig na mBan

Now, for the day that’s in it.

If you know, then you know.

Here’s to the women who reared me and the daughters I have put out into the world.

Number One Daughter and Baby Doctor, both of them Gaeilgeoirí,  make this world better by being it.

Crucially, they know what and who they come from, and along with the bean chéile, that was my job.

Today, I’m taken back to nearly sixty-year-old memories as my grandmother Julia guided me along narrow lanes in the townland of Kilmmeena.

In the year that was the 50th anniversary of the Rising, she earnestly explained to me where the Flying Column was deployed on that fateful day.

Our lads avoided encirclement and destruction by Crown Forces and, in doing so, survived.

The same IRA unit triumphed one month later at Carrowkennedy against the elite of a global empire.

It was to be the final major engagement of the Tan War.

So, in 1966, my Mayo granny reckoned that her eight-year-old grandson was of an age to learn about such things.

I paid attention.

History forgotten is a betrayal.

History remembered is a weapon.

There is no revolution without the participation of women.

In the middle of that famous photograph is Eithne Ní Chumhaill, a proud daughter of An Fál Carrach.

She founded the Cumann na mBan in 1918.

I often drive past her memorial as I head to the home place.

Long after the Donegal woman’s active service days were behind her, I understand Eithne kept in touch with a respectable lady from Westport, County Mayo, who had a similar revolutionary CV.