Another fine mess

I TUNED into BBC Question Time for the edition before last expecting it to be appalling, and of course I wasn’t disappointed. But I put myself through it because it came from Dundee, a city which I have a great emotional attachment to. It used to be known for jute, jam and journalism, now it’s for drug deaths and Brian Cox. I rather hoped Fiona Bruce and the panellists would be sitting on metal buckets, but it wasn’t to be, probably because none of them was actually from the city. It didn’t sound as if many of the audience were either, judging by the accents.

One of the panellists was Alex Massie, who has about three jobs, but this time he was representing the Scottish edition of The Times, the McChunterer. He’s a columnist, so he may have a way with words but clearly lacks essential hand-eye co-ordination because he had a huge stain on one of his jacket lapels. I’ve been backstage at one of these events and they put on a lavish meal beforehand so I can only assume that he dribbled his foie gras or moules marinière and no-one had the heart to tell him. It did not go unnoticed, however, among his watching colleagues, to whom he is now known as Alex Messy.

Time for questions

The BBC, like the commercial channels, has a quota for spending and programme commissioning in Scotland, which is meant to encourage independents, and germinate new local talent and great programming. This potential source of additional revenue did not escape the major London-based companies, like Mentorn, which set up a Glasgow office so it could game the system, pass the tartan test and win commissions, like Corner Shop Cook Off and, of course, Question Time.

Mentorn is owned by a Welsh-based company called Tinopolis whose parent company is the mega-rich and acronymic DMWSL 660, with a turnover last year of more than £227 million – all but a groat or a ceiniog coming from programme sales. Some independent.

Storm in a toilet bowl

Why do all these weather squalls have Catholic names, a mate of mine jokingly (?) asked, and not ones like Storm Billy? Or Calvin? Well, they were historically named after male saints, and only since 1979 have they alternated with female names. However, a recent study showed that feminine-named storms caused significantly more deaths, apparently because they lead to lower perceived risk and consequently less preparedness. That’s what happens to sexists – they get their houses blown down.

Which brings me to Bernoulli’s principle, named after the 18th-century mathematician Daniel, which explains why the water in your toilet goes up, or more usually down, when there’s a gale. What do you mean you’ve never noticed?

I don’t pretend to understand his equation as I was off school the day they did sums, but it involves pressure, velocity, fluid dynamics and all sorts of jiggery-pokery. So, the water in your toilet shoogles, or drops because of changes in air pressure.

Next week: the science of dowsing made simple.

Braga rights

The two Glasgow football teams went some way during the week to restoring pride in Scottish football, Rangers in particular coming back, seemingly, from the dead. Whether or not they can survive the trip to Braga we will find out on Wednesday. But travelling Bears with an eye for spectacular architecture, if there are any, are in for a treat.

The Estádio Municipal de Braga, commonly known as The Quarry, is on the site of an old one and is carved out of a mountain. One end of the ground is a rock face so fans are advised to pack crampons; the other looks down on the city below. It was designed by Eduardo Souto de Moura for a relatively modest £70 million and he won architecture’s biggest prize for it.

The two stands on either side of the pitch are covered with a canopy-style roof and connected by dozens of steel strings, a design inspired by ancient South American Incan bridges. Getting between the stands is through a 5,000sqm plaza under the pitch, although security may prevent that this week. It’s definitely one for the bucket list.

United we stand

Back in Discovery City, one of its later classy products, Neil Forsyth, who wrote the wonderful Guilt TV series, is a Dundee United supporter. During the week he circulated a gem from another fan, Grant, aka

@unicornunbound, who had come across an old letter from an unlikely Arabs fan, the bestselling writer James A Michener.

Michener wrote a slew of meaty sagas, including the one on which the musical South Pacific was based, but before, and a mite prosaically, he had studied at St Andrews University for two years in the early 1930s. Every second Saturday he crossed the Tay to support Dundee United, then in the Second Division. They were, he wrote, his kind of team – “brash, brawling and brave”.

He would have seen them take on the mighty Armadale, St Bernard’s and Bo’ness, although they were pulling in crowds of 8,000, including the young James, for local derbies against Montrose and Forfar. Going to see Dundee, then in the First Division, was too expensive so the US student had settled on United.

Michener said he followed United for two years and part of the third but was “doomed never to see them advance into the higher division, but my loyalty remained permanent”. He did follow them from afar, too, when he became successful.

The author wasn’t there for the glory days under the carnaptious Jim McLean when United won the league and might also have won the European Cup had Roma not bunged the referee £50,000 in the semi-final with the Arabs ahead 2-0 from the first leg.

There’s a play about McLean at the Dundee Rep now called Smile, which Jim never did. I’d like to see it reviewed by Duncan Ferguson who, when disciplined by his boss and ordered to paint a gym wall, daubed “Jim McLean’s a c***”.

Or John Barnes who, in the wee curmudgeon’s last act at the club, banjoed the BBC reporter.

But finally on the mighty club. The Nigerian slang for idiot or numpty, in the Yoruba language, is “Dundee United”. Honestly. But I don’t know what Wee Jim did to offend the locals.