Eamonn Sweeney: 'Deluded GAA managers could learn a thing or two from NFL's nonchalant new kid on the block'
Patrick Mahomes is a very special player. In just his second year in the NFL, the Kansas City Chiefs...
Patrick Mahomes is a very special player. In just his second year in the NFL, the Kansas City Chiefs...
Ole Gunnar Solskjaer always had a great eye for an opportunity. When Jose Mourinho was axed by Manchester United no-one mentioned the...
Niall Quinn is chancing his arm. Nothing illustrates the parlous state of soccer in this country better than the idea that his top-of-the-head, back-of-an-envelope proposals are worthy of serious...
The Wayne Rooney story is beginning to assume a somewhat melancholy tinge. His recent arrest for being drunk at Dulles Airport in Washington...
The Special One is dead. He's been ailing for a long time, but this day last week Liverpool finally put him out of his misery. Jose Mourinho is just another manager now, a Clark Kent whose superhero alter ego has hung up his cape.
The World Darts Championship has been a bit different so far this year. It's been different in a good way because there's significant Irish interest, largely thanks to Willie O'Connor, the 32-year-old Limerick man who became the first player from this country to win two games at a world finals when he beat England's James Wilson 3-2 on Wednesday.
As the winter solstice marks the moment when we make the turn towards longer days, the post-Christmas race meetings are the time when the quest for Cheltenham glory begins in earnest. Early season skirmishing is forgotten as every race seems to have a bearing on the greatest meeting of them all.
Watching Manchester United is like watching Brexit. Every time you think things can't deteriorate any further they take another turn for the worse.
Raheem Sterling is right about the media being partly responsible for the racist abuse he received at Stamford Bridge. But he's only partly right. The English media behaves horribly towards almost all footballers, not just the black ones. Focusing solely on the racial aspects of this behaviour lets the perpetrators off the hook to a certain extent.
Ten years ago then Minister for Finance Brian Lenihan decided the State should guarantee all the customer deposits and borrowings of Irish banks.
Here's a Tale of Two Harringtons. First, Kellie from Dublin. Following in the footsteps of Katie...
The Nations League was the competition no-one asked for and no-one was looking forward to. But it turned out to be exactly the competition we needed. The ramifications of the convoluted...
On August 2, 2016 Stephen Kenny masterminded Dundalk's famous 3-0 Europa League victory against BATE Borisov, a club who the previous season...
Irish rugby is on top of the world this morning. Whatever the rankings say, Ireland have been the best team on the planet this year.
Cometh the hour cometh Amond. Who needs Roy of the Rovers when you have Padraig of the County? 'The Magic of the FA Cup' has become a phrase, like 'Fox News - Fair And Balanced' or 'Holy Catholic Ireland', usually uttered in a spirit of mockery.
It might seem ungrateful to submit another wish list just a few weeks after sending my letter to Santa. But, as Martha and the Muffins once confessed, 'I can't help it, I'm a romantic fool.' This could be the greatest year in Irish sporting history and a nifty one internationally. All that's required is for these 10 wishes to come true.
The battle between Pep Guardiola and Jose Mourinho is over. The battle between Guardiola and Jurgen Klopp is about to begin in earnest.
A is for all-conquering Leinster who swept aside all opposition in the Champions Cup. The abiding memories of the campaign may be of sparkling attacking rugby but victory was founded on a mean defence which conceded just over 15 points a game. The quarter-final win over Saracens was perhaps Leinster's most significant, the semi-final destruction of Scarlets saw them at their most spectacular and in the final against Racing they proved they could grind out results when things weren't going for them. No-one was better than James Ryan, who this time last year wasn't even starting for Leinster.
Why would Mauricio Pochettino want to manage Manchester United? Look what he's built at Spurs. When Arsenal outclassed Spurs three weeks ago excitable Gunners fans suggested the balance of power in North London might be swinging back in their direction. Tottenham's response could hardly have been better.
A few years ago the GAA decided, against considerable grassroots opposition, to abolish competitive games at the under 12 grade. They're less timid souls in the FAI where they've announced that a national under 13 league will get under way next March.
It's the greatest club story ever told. That the champions of Longford, population 40,810, could beat the champions of Dublin, population 1.35 million, is unlikely enough. But that these Longford champions would represent the smallest club in the GAA's second-smallest county brings the tale into the realm of fantasy. Or maybe even science fiction.
The 1970s were desperate, weren't they? Bananas being thrown at footballers, comedians making sexist remarks at awards ceremonies, football managers aiming jibes at gay people. Thank God we've got away from all that stuff.
Arsenal's performance against Spurs in the North London Derby was one of the most passionate in Premier League history. There was a possessed quality to the performance of Unai Emery's team which eventually proved irresistible in the finest game of the season so far.
Joe Schmidt changed everything for Irish rugby. The team he inherited five years ago had won three of its previous ten Six Nations games and dropped to a lowest ever ninth in the world rankings. The season finished with three Six Nations defeats on the trot, our worst run ever, including a 22-15 loss to an Italian team who finished above Ireland in the table.
Here are five things I learned on Wednesday night. Joe Brolly is taller than you'd think. Eamon Dunphy really hates the word 'lachrymose'. Neil Francis has a low opinion of my abilities as an NFL tipster. I'm aging a lot faster than some of the Dorian Grays of Irish journalism. And there has been an awful lot of great writing in the sports pages of the Sunday Independent over the last 30 years.
One of the great days. One of the very greatest. All week we waited with a sense of foreboding. The All Blacks were coming to put Ireland back in their box. They wanted to put down a marker for the World Cup. They wanted to remind us who's boss.
Manchester United's performance against Manchester City was a 90-minute admission of inferiority. Rumours of a Red Devils revival turn out to have been greatly exaggerated.
There have been some pretty fantastic sporting moments over the past week or so. Alexandre Lacazette's gorgeous finish against Liverpool, the terrific Breeders Cup victories of Enable and Accelerate, Jordan Larmour's terpsichorean tour de force try in Chicago, Red Star pulling off the biggest upset of the Champions League so far, Manchester United conjuring up memories of 1999.
Now for the main course. The match in Chicago was a refreshing amuse-bouche but this win over Argentina was more in the nature of an undistinguished hors d'oeuvre. A bit difficult to digest at first, but it slipped down OK in the end.
James McClean was wrong to describe those who attacked him for not wearing the poppy as "cavemen". The caveman was a pretty impressive character who in between eluding the attacks of sabre-toothed tigers and discovering fire, found time to create magnificent paintings at Lascaux and Altamira. He shouldn't be compared to the parade of cranks, assholes and nitwits who surface...
Stephen Kenny should be the next Ireland manager. Dundalk's FAI cup final win over Cork City makes it four league titles, two cups and two doubles in five seasons for the Lilywhites. There are no more peaks for Kenny to scale in the domestic game. It's time for the FAI to be brave and offer him the biggest job in Irish football.
Any boxing promoter keen to hype up a so-so bout would be delighted if the combatants possessed the dislike Dundalk and Cork City feel for each other. Today's FAI Cup final is a real grudge match between two sides whose rivalry has taken on a keen personal edge.
In 1951, Eamon de Valera gave a speech in which he claimed 50 Irish workers were living in one house in Birmingham, 15 to a room, and men and women on shift work slept in the same bed by turns. The Irish Digest newspaper ran reports headlined, 'Irish girls found living with coloured men and Poles' and 'Irish boys living in illicit association with their landladies and divorced women'.
This feels like the start of something big. Just six months ago Henry Shefflin had his first competitive game as a senior manager. Ballyhale Shamrocks won that match and yesterday won another, the Kilkenny senior hurling final. Henry's got a winning habit.
It's great news that Notre Dame will be playing a college football game against Navy in Dublin in August 2020. The last time the two sides met in the Aviva, in 2012, they brought 35,000 fans over. You could hardly turn a corner in the city without bumping into a Yank.
The best thing about the European Champions Cup is that you can never take your eye off it. While you can be pretty sure that all the fancied teams will make it into the knock-out stages of the Champions League, there are no such guarantees in its rugby equivalent. Teams have to be up to speed from the start.
Correction: It has been drawn to our attention that over the past week Irish Sporting Media Inc has used such phrases as "Unbeatable," "As good as the best New Zealand sides," "Unlikely to face a serious challenge before a probable final against Saracens," and, "Most exciting team in competition history," in connection with the Leinster rugby team.
Imagine being Freddie Burns this morning last week. You open your eyes, the room comes into focus, your brain clicks into gear and then suddenly, 'Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, what have I done? I'm never going to live this down, never.' To paraphrase Kris Kristofferson, he'd have woke up Sunday morning with no way to hold his pride that didn't hurt.
Tomorrow night is Martin O'Neill's moment of truth as Republic of Ireland manager. If his team beat Wales his critics should back off a bit. Victory will prove he retains the ability to coax a big performance from his players.
Like all draws, this one posed the old glass-half-empty versus half-glass-full conundrum. But being happy with the result requires not so much optimism as low expectations.
Perhaps if Matt Doherty was English-born he might have had more caps for Ireland. A couple of seasons ago Martin O'Neill would have given the Wolves right-back the competitive appearance necessary to tie him to this country forever.
Did you see McGregor, did you? No, let's not do that. What about those brawls at the GAA matches in the North? No, we won't do that either. Let's talk about something else. Let's talk about Mikey Drennan, the gifted young soccer player from Kilkenny who came back from England and was going great guns with Shamrock Rovers till derailed by depression.
One of the unloveliest figures in Irish life is the guy who likes to goad and torment others, but is outraged if they retaliate. We've all heard his plaintive cry "What did I do? I done nothing. What's up with him? I was only having the craic like."
The best-attended sporting fixture of the year took place last weekend. The 100,022 at the Melbourne Cricket Ground for the Grand Final of the Australian Rules season saw it dwarf the crowds at the World Cup final, Super Bowl and Champions League final. In fact, nothing's come within 10,000 of it.
Fair play to the GAA's Playing Rules Committee. Drastic action was needed to make Gaelic football a better game and the proposals they've delivered fit the bill.
In Sophocles' play Oedipus Rex the city of Thebes is beset by omens of disaster. "A rust consumes the buds and fruits of the earth; the herds are sick; children die unborn, and labour is vain. The god of plague and pyre raids like detestable lightning through the city, and all the house of Kadmos is laid waste, and all emptied, and all darkened."
The Ryder Cup is Fake Sport. A third flop renewal in a row lays bare the event's essential unreality. It is becoming a cod and a con job where a molehill of meaning is dwarfed by a mountain of hype.
Dundalk are on the verge of the greatest league campaign in Irish soccer history. Their 3-2 win over Derry City at Oriel Park on Tuesday means the Lilywhites have effectively secured a fourth League of Ireland title in five seasons.
Kerry footballers and Tipperary hurlers are the two most intriguing teams in Gaelic games. They're coming down with talent, play wonderfully attractive stuff and are potential All-Ireland champions. Yet in the last couple of years neither team got the best out of itself. Both are surrounded by an aura of under-performance. That's why the choice of managers to replace Eamonn Fitzmaurice...
Tiger Woods and Rory McIlroy was the final-round pairing everyone dreamed of and no-one thought they'd see. But, in what was meant to be a duel, the young pretender never landed a blow.
The difference between the performances of Andy Robertson (cost, £8m) and Trent Alexander-Arnold (cost, nothing) and those of Neymar (€222m) and Kylian Mbappé (cost, €135m) epitomised the difference between Liverpool and Paris Saint-Germain on Tuesday night.
There's never been a year like it for variety of sporting success. Last week it was the turn of rowers Dominant Puspure and the O'Donovan brothers, Dominant and Dominant junior, along with the three-day eventing team of Dominant McCarthy, Dominant Ennis, Dominant Watson and Dominant Daniels.
Just when we thought our chance had passed, they went and saved the best till last. On the final day of the inter-county football season Cork and Dublin provided the thriller Croke Park has been crying out for. The women gave us what the men couldn't.
So how was your week at work? Did you tell anyone they were a fucking c**t and had been all their life? Did someone follow you down a corridor, shouting that you were a fucking prick? Thought not. You wouldn't talk to someone like that. And you wouldn't tolerate anyone speaking to you that way. That's why there's no defending Roy Keane's behaviour towards Harry Arter.
One of the most jaw-droppingly exhilarating moments of the last sporting year did not involve a shot, a save or a solo run. It didn't even happen on the field. It was the announcement of the attendance at the ladies football final.
All the single-point victory ladies put their hands up. Cork's minimum margin win over Kilkenny makes them the first team in camogie history to capture successive All-Ireland finals by one point.
The current football championship situation is a bit like Alien. At the start of the movie the creature which hops out of John Hurt's stomach is scary, but he's small enough for the crew to fancy their chances against him. Before long, however, the titular beast has increased massively in size to become absolutely terrifying and apparently invincible. This is a different class of monster altogether. So it goes with Dublin.
The third Welsh goal on Thursday night summed things up nicely. Jon Walters received the ball just inside the Welsh half, controlled it poorly, dawdled and was swept aside by Ethan Ampadu. The teenager strode forward imperiously before finding Aaron Ramsey, who drilled a low shot past Darren Randolph.
The All-Ireland camogie final has been overshadowed by its football counterpart in recent years. The emergence of a charismatic Cork team, their thrilling rivalry with Dublin and the soaring attendances, last year's massive 46,286 in particular, have seen ladies' football enjoy a much higher profile than camogie.
The worst football championship of all time ended with the final that barely was. This decider lasted just 27 minutes as a competitive fixture. For almost two-thirds of it the spectators were in the same position as someone watching The Sunday Game when they already know the result.
It seems fitting that the All-Ireland football final is taking place at the end of a week when children return to school. Because there's a back to school feeling about today's game. After the summer holiday of the hurling championship it's nose to the football grindstone time again.
Why does the Englishman Declan Rice want to play for England? It's a mystery, isn't it? If only we had some hint as to why the Londoner is contemplating the drastic step of playing international football for his home country.
Tonight's match between Manchester United and Tottenham Hotspur may be one of the most crucial games of Jose Mourinho's career. A loss might mark the point of no return for the United manager.
They are the oldest and the youngest. The little guy and the giant. The journeyman and the prodigy. They're two very different players. But no-one did more to bring Limerick a fairytale first All-Ireland in 45 years than Graeme Mulcahy and Kyle Hayes.
Limerick hurlers may be the great underachievers of the GAA. Everyone knows a win today would give them a first All-Ireland since 1973. But that previous victory also ended a long fallow spell, one lasting 33 years. Limerick have won just one of the last 77 All-Irelands.
Tyrone have 70 minutes to save the Championship. We're counting on them. Not because we believe in Tyrone, but because there's no choice.
One way of looking at today's semi-final between Tyrone and Monaghan is as a play-off for Gaelic football's Manager of the Year title. To get this far, both Mickey Harte and Malachy O'Rourke have had to recover from morale-sapping defeats, overcome the odds away from home in the Super 8, defy harsh criticism which questioned their whole footballing philosophy and make extremely judicious use of the players available to them. Making it to the semis under these circumstances has been a fine achievement. Reaching the final would be a remarkable one.
It's been a marvellous few weeks for Irish sport. The achievement of the hockey team in reaching the World Cup final tops the bill but we've also had European silver for Paul and Gary O'Donovan in rowing and the Irish women's team in modern pentathlon, as well as European bronze for Thomas Barr in athletics and Shane Ryan in swimming.
It was men against boys. No point pretending otherwise. But for once let's not focus on the competitive deficit in the championship or the failure of the latest pretenders to pose a serious challenge to Dublin. Let's pay tribute instead to the power and grace of Jim Gavin's team and the way they epitomise all that's good about Gaelic football. There is an awful lot to admire.
Just when Biddy Earley thought she was out, Clare dragged her back in. Well, it's one explanation. Because there really was something uncanny about the way the Banner let Galway off the hook in the closing minutes yesterday. This was one of the great choke jobs in hurling history.
Michael D Higgins really likes sport. I've seen the proof. Back in 2011 Galway United fielded the worst team in League of Ireland history. These lads were the Galacticos of underachievement, finishing with a total of six points and 32 defeats from 36 matches and a goal difference of minus 95.
Looking at Jose Mourinho's behaviour over the past couple of seasons at Manchester United it's hard not to feel that his prime concern is avoiding any blame if the team underachieves. Yet his keenness to provide himself with an alibi probably backfired last term.
Today Ireland play in the World Cup final. How great is that? We've made a couple of underage rugby deciders but the women's hockey team are the first Irish side to reach a senior World Cup final. They've managed to do it in a genuine world sport, one where populous nations with long winning traditions devote considerable resources to the game.
Limerick are the Prince Charming of this year's fairytale hurling championship. You can't help falling in love with them. They perfectly embody the freewheeling, adventurous, rollercoaster spirit of the most exciting championship ever played.
This was the greatest game in the greatest year in the greatest sport. We'll have to retire the word 'epic' because everything else which usually gets described as such pales into insignificance compared to this one. Hurling, with this championship you are really spoiling us.
This morning last week it looked as though the Super 8 had, like 'social justice warrior', 'holy Catholic Ireland' or 'Fox News - fair and balanced,' become one of those phrases only ever used sarcastically. Then out of the blue in Newbridge and Clones came two matches containing open, attacking football, long-range points, end-to-end action, players kicking the ball forward rather than handpassing it backwards and thrilling finishes. The transformation of kindly Dr Henry Jekyll into malevolent Mr Hyde was hardly more startling.
Is the 2018 Tour de France the worst sporting event of all-time? It's certainly up there. Before it started at all the organisers sought to exclude reigning champion Chris Froome because of his positive dope test at last year's Vuelta, only to have the ground cut from under their feet when the sport's governing body, on somewhat dubious grounds, opted not to suspend the rider.
That great fictional creation Rumpole of the Bailey said, approvingly, that "the glory of the advocate is to be opinionated, brash, fearless, partisan, hectoring, rude, cunning and unfair." It's a good description of Eamon Dunphy who, like Rumpole, has always had an irascible, larger-than-life quality about him.
The classic in Clones was a tale of three attackers, Forward Past, Forward Present and Forward Future. The guy whose best days are behind him, the guy at his peak and the guy with it all ahead of him.
Is Gaelic football the world's most boring field sport? Not yet. But it's getting there. It has potential. One more big push and those apocryphal Americans who used to stream from Croke Park exclaiming, "Mah god Paddy, ah caint believe your game of hurling is so goddamn fast," will soon be saying, "Gee whizz this is the most tedious thing ah have ever seen. And you say they're all amateurs?...
Are Dublin struggling? A bit perhaps. Not enough to give Jim Gavin sleepless nights but just enough to keep the championship interesting.
So who were the outstanding performers in the World Cup final? Pogba? Mbappe? Perisic? My vote goes to Veronika Nikulshina, Olga Pakhtusova, Olga Kurachyova and Pyotr Verzilov, the four members of the Pussy Riot group who invaded the pitch in Moscow to protest against Vladimir Putin's regime.
The last time Limerick beat Kilkenny in the hurling championship, 'Where Three Counties Meet' by Brendan Shine was number one in the Irish charts, US President Richard Nixon was struggling to survive the Watergate scandal and a pint of porter cost nineteen pence.
So this is how the Super 8 begins, not with a bang but with a whimper. As launches of highly hyped new vehicles go, last night's double at Croke Park was up there with the maiden flight of the Hindenburg.
Let's all laugh at England, let's all laugh at England, ha ha ha ha, ha ha ha ha. Yes, I know it's terribly immature of me. I should be ashamed of myself. But everyone has their breaking point and I reached mine last week. Sometimes you've just had enough.
Galway's attack can become one of the greatest forward lines in the history of hurling. Yesterday's tour de force against Kilkenny was the latest evidence that there's something very special about the way Micheál Donoghue's team do things up front.
There's no statute of limitations on a good argument, but it was slightly odd to see Donegal pursuing their claim that Dublin have an unfair advantage in the Super 8 less than a fortnight before the teams meet in Croke Park.
Anti-doping is dead. It died on Monday when the UCI, cycling's governing body, announced that it was dropping its case against Chris Froome who'd tested positive for a higher than permitted level of the asthma drug salbutamol at last year's Vuelta a Espana.
There are few things in sport less satisfying than a draw.
The two-goal start handed to Donegal in the 2012 All-Ireland final, the defensive mix-up which gave Bernard Brogan his first goal in the 2013 decider, the five-point lead with five minutes left lost in the 2014 semi against Kerry, the two own goals in the drawn 2016 meeting with Dublin, the decision to replace All-Star goalkeeper David Clarke for the replay, the red card for Donal Vaughan just when...
The serious stuff starts now. From here on in our heroes will add spice to the show by performing their tricks without a safety net. Forget calculations and permutations, a win will be a win and a loss will be the end. Shit just got real, as they apparently say in the hip-hop community.
It's hard to see how Ireland's tour to Australia could have gone much better. They could of course have won the series 3-0 rather than 2-1, but the loss in Brisbane was to an extent invaluable. It showed Joe Schmidt how his team reacted to adversity and it scotched any delusions of grandeur which might have followed the Six Nations campaign.
Have we just witnessed the worst set of provincial football finals in history? Shakespeare wrote that, "The worst is not so long as we can say 'this is the worst'."
For such a placid and reasonable man, Derek McGrath was an extraordinarily divisive figure. Waterford's sweeper system was not so much criticised as treated like a kind of blasphemy against the sacred spirit of the game. It was hurling's version of Dylan going electric. The purists weren't going to stand for it.
The World Cup is a magnificent machine for the global promotion of joy. It has its problems. There's the commercialism, the cynicism, the elongation. But when you see the fans who've travelled to support their teams in their own distinctive national manner, it's hard not to be swept away. Watching their anticipation, their elation, their trepidation and their jubilation can only make you feel exhilarated.
Exactly 20 years ago a Galway team which included current manager Kevin Walsh was overwhelmingly favoured to win the Connacht final against Roscommon but needed a last-minute point to scrape a draw in Tuam.
Poor inter-county managers. Poor, poor inter-county managers. They work their fingers to the bone without officially getting a penny in return and when they lose it's never their fault. The referee is always to blame.
All the tradition, fashion, ceremony and memories of Audrey Hepburn in a bonnet sometimes make it easy to forget what an outstanding event Royal Ascot is from a purely sporting perspective. The eight Group One races in the festival makes it the closest thing Flat racing has to a Cheltenham.
When Tipperary came back to draw with Cork a fortnight ago it seemed a turning point of huge significance. Michael Ryan had apparently delivered a half-time oration of sufficient power to awaken the real Tipp.
The decision to award Tipperary that second goal against Waterford is one of the great lousy calls in GAA history.
Don't you just love the petition calling for FIFA and UEFA to 'punish' Sergio Ramos? As I write this 514,066 people have signed it. Sorry, Akbar Makhdumov and Simran Shreshta have just signed, 514,068.
God love the advocates of a two-tier football championship. Their arrival, like that of the swallow, announces that summer is here. Their distinctive mating calls, 'it'shardtoseewhatgoodthatwilldothelosers' or 'wouldn'theybebetteroffplayingteamslikethemselves' echo through the land. Should Dublin give Longford a pasting in the Leinster semi-final and do the same to Laois or Carlow in the final those chirps will grow to a crescendo.
Early in her inter-county career, Rena Buckley grabbed the headlines in spectacular fashion. She was just 19 when she won the player of the match award for a terrific performance at right half-back as Cork beat Tipperary in the 2006 All-Ireland senior camogie final. Yet the beginning of her career wasn’t typical of Buckley. She didn’t specialise in the spectacular.
We need to talk about Leinster. Here's a number for you. 417,072. That was the combined population of counties Meath and Kildare at the last Census. Here's another number. 97,705. That's the combined figure for Longford and Carlow.
Order. Order in court. Who have we up next, court clerk? A Mister Football, judge. Mister Gaelic Football.
The team Michael Ryan picked for Tipperary's game against Limerick seemed not so much a selection as a cry for help.
Many moons ago I caused a slight stir in an upstate New York bar by making inquiries about where I might find a bookies so as to place a few bets on the Breeders' Cup.
Alas poor Mayo we knew them well, a team of infinite bravery and most excellent character. Or to quote Jim Morrison rather than William Shakespeare, "This is the end, beautiful friend."
This year's football championship is like the hurling championship's dark alter ego. If it's difficult to rein in your enthusiasm for the latter it's hard to whip up much for the former. Hurling may be tasting the joys of democracy after years of Kilkenny dictatorship but in football the iron grip of the metropolitan oligarchs seems set to grow tighter.
Remember that feeling at midnight on Christmas Eve? When you were a kid and the anticipation of the goodies lying in store was almost too much to bear. That's how I feel about the hurling championship. This is going to be one of the great years.
It’s traditional at this time of year to complain that after all the build-up the All-Ireland football championship is beginning with a whimper. Why couldn’t the GAA arrange for a bang instead, ask people who seem to be thinking of something like Dublin and Kerry under lights in Croke Park.
I see a well-known Irish football figure wants to see a stronger Rangers side providing better competition for Celtic in the Scottish Premier League. There's always one, isn't there? Who is this treacherous hun-loving West British shoneen? Come out you Black and Tan and identify yourself, if you're not too busy taking tea with Lord John Kilclooney.
The final day of The Championship is one of the great treats of the football season. A mad scramble ensues from the moment the games kick off together at 12.30 as promotion spots, play-off places and relegations are decided. The potential fates of teams change throughout the afternoon and the tension is palpable as sometimes the entire meaning of a season lasting 69 hours, plus about six of...