Old Ibrox tradition goes up in smoke

Ireland and is now being repeated by soccer fanzines in this country.

It goes as follows: A fanatical Gers supporter from Londonderry/Derry

died while on holiday in Ayr this summer. As most of his relations lived

in Scotland, the family decided to see him off on this side of the Irish

Sea.

As the Irish newspaper the Sunday World reported: ''After a moving

funeral ceremony which included a reception at the local Orange hall

where his Celtic-supporting son was presented with his father's sash, a

small delegation of loyal fans made the 40-mile trip to Glasgow to

witness Joe's ashes being spread over the home ground of his lifelong

heroes.''

When the party arrived at Ibrox they were disappointed to find that

Rangers had been forced to discontinue the practice of allowing families

to scatter ashes on the pitch because there were so many requests it was

affecting the state of the turf.

The family persisted, and as the Sunday World reported: ''After brief

negotiations, a club official agreed to compromise and allow the Derry

family to scatter Joe's ashes over the running track and stand areas of

the ground.

''But their disappointment suddenly turned to anger as they made their

way out -- pausing for a moment to reflect on the fact that Joe's last

request had been fulfilled -- because two groundsmen were sweeping his

ashes into piles and then cleaning them away with two industrial

cleaning machines.''

John Greig, Captain Courageous turned Rangers public relations man,

told the Diary that there was indeed an unscheduled and ad hoc

scattering of ashes at Ibrox. He is assured by the ground staff that

there was no hoovering up afterwards.

What remains is a Rangers dilemma. In the old days in the old stadium,

when there was green grun behind the goals, it was no problem and the

bald patches which resulted did not affect the pitch.

These days there is no appropriate place to accommodate the last

wishes of deceased stalwarts. They still receive constant requests from

families to scatter ashes. Rangers, for once, are in a no-win situation.

New myths for old

FURTHER to our comments on the New Age politics of William Wolfe, the

SNP's comeback kid, has the man himself not been on to give his own side

of the story. In the politest manner possible he intimates that his New

Age agenda is not, as we reported, simply green, hippie, and mystical.

In a briefing paper entitled ''New Age Politics for Scotland'', Mr

Wolfe tells us his aims include ''leaving behind the sacrificial and

authoritarian attitudes and practices that deny freedom to the human

spirit''.

He goes on: ''We have to create a new myth for our identity, retaining

only the essential myth of our present reality that 'being Scottish is

an affair of the heart'.

''The power of the current myths which enchain us will not be broken

by ignoring, bemoaning, or suppressing them, but by perceiving the grief

hidden in them, dissolving the false pride in them, and the

victim-consciousness that goes with them, and by processing these things

and destroying their power.''

He chastises: ''Stop harking back with pride and/or nostalgic

self-pity. Acknowledge the shame of defeats and duplicities, and process

them individually and collectively.''

We suppose a few verses of Flower of Scotland is out of the question.

One-man ecumenist

NAME Game:

The vicar of the Church of St James in Devizes, Wiltshire, is the Rev.

Tim Pape.

And on Saturday at Market Rasen the Town Council Novices Chase was won

by Corrupt Committee ridden by . . . A Tory.

The personal touch

ADVERT of the week is from British Home Stores, which is seeking for

its store at St Enoch Centre, Glasgow, an ''intimate apparel manager''.

Applicants, it says, must possess a ''hands-on approach''.

Child psychology

THE Use of Language and That: A rare example of verbal talent

overheard on a North Sea ferry. A Scottish granny is admonishing her

half-German grandwean: ''Gretchen! If ye dinnae stoap that you'll get

yer heid in your hauns to play wi'.''

'Heavy' response

THE Diary's mailbag doth overflow like a bust keg with answers to our

beer competition. It has produced a lavish response and includes some

rather unsavoury suggestions as to what is going on in our illustration

between the chef, the dark stranger, and the two ladies (above). We

received a large amount of mail insinuating a menage a trois. This has

been ignored.

The postcard, as you know, is being issued by the Brewers Association,

along with other cosy beery scenes to celebrate this Brewery Month of

September.

The Diary's judges are still giving submissions a fair hearing; the

overall winner of the mega-hamper of Scottish ale has still to be

chosen. However, we feel a sneak preview is in order. Readers who will

receive a selection of fine ales for their scribblings, regardless of

the final decision, include Roy Loughran of Glasgow for the following

exchange:

Him: ''Well, whit dae ye think o' Thruxton's Auld Reprobate?''

Hur: ''Shut up, or he'll hear ye!''

Or this Just-Williamish outburst from David Swift (as in swift half)

of Dunblane: ''OK. Violet Elizabeth is in the club. But how can we be

sure that William is the father.''

Disgraceful. More beery anecdotes and scenarios are welcomed.