The result of the Gennady Golovkin vs Saul ‘Canelo’ Alvarez was one I accepted with a dose of outrage, a good measure of shock and a large scoop of predictability.

The fight was adjudged to have been drawn, with judge Dan Trella scoring the fight 114-114, and Dave Moretti calling it 115-113 in favour of the Kazakh fighter who held on to his WBA, WBC and IBF titles and remains unbeaten in 38 fights.

However, according to judge Adalaide Byrd, Alvarez was a clear winner, 118-110 on her scorecard. Or, maybe it was her bingo card. It was an outrageous verdict to anyone who could count punches, let alone know anything about boxing.

But what I found most amusing though were the number of people who made known their faux anger at the split decision. One or two of them should have gone back and checked their timelines on social media.

Because, if you are going to call any boxing judge, maybe you should have started when American judge Carlos Ortiz Jr believed Ricky Burns beat Raymundo Beltran, 115-112, and British judge Richie Davis returned a 114-114 draw, when it was evident the Mexican had clearly won the fight.

It was even clearer to the surgeon who the next morning got to wire Burns’ jaw back together.

On Friday afternoon I attended an impromptu photoshoot with Doddie Weir in attendance, largely promoting a testimonial dinner in his honour that will be staged in London in November.

Taking photographs in any public place can be fraught with danger, mainly because it’s full of the general public. At one stage, Doddie was asked to pose, looking around a large wall of glass, with the snappers clicking away merrily, only for a punter to walk smack in to Mr Weir.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you,” said the pedestrian.” Doddie has MND. The pedestrian has abysmal eyesight, given Dod is 6’8” and was wearing a multi-coloured tartan suit.

A few people asked why I hadn’t attended an awards dinner this week. The answer is simple; I wasn’t invited. My response however appeared to upset some of those doing the asking than it ever did me.

However, what did bother me, was getting a press release a day after the awards were dished out, expecting me to run a list of winners which was already a day old, and cold. Next time, whether I’m there or in Molly Malones supping Guinness, try sending out the winners and put an embargo on it. Revolutionary thinking, I know.

But at least your celebrations might get some exposure instead of just donating weekly column inches to your cause.

Last week I upset several members of the Tartan Army by claiming Scotland got nowhere near the 2008 European Championship finals.

And, after a week of studying my bumper tournament wall chart, I haven’t changed my mind. We weren’t anywhere near Switzerland or Austria.

But fair play to the Tartan Army. I’d sleep safe in bed if it was their duty to defend me - because some are world class at defending the indefensible, namely, 20 years of non-qualification.