Flush and forget — how to deal with Scottish football journalism

By Luke Kelleher

I have a confession to make. To my shame and chagrin, I am unable to adhere to the sensible rules of life that, in my more Lucile moments, I devised in order to protect myself from meaningless endeavour.

I don’t ask why the toast lands butter side down — I simply try to handle my toast carefully. I don’t trouble myself with wondering why some waste sinks while others float — I just close the lid and flush.

The latter course is my preferred method of dealing with Scottish football journalism — the faster you press the handle, the sooner you forget the stench. And yet, sometimes I ponder and stare.

Now, friends, I am no expert on the matter of journalism, but I know a little something about storytelling, and I must say, when it comes to the scribblers of the Scottish football mainstream media, their stories are often most astonishingly thin, and frequently lacking in the important ingredient called truth.

Take, for instance, the recent hullabaloo surrounding Kyogo Furuhashi’s supposed Unlikely return to Celtic. Certain media outlets were quick to sound the trumpets, amplifying the hot air from their nether regions, without bothering to check the simplest of facts. As highlighted by A Celtic State of Mind, this was a classic case of mainstream media laziness, where sensationalism trumped accuracy — and quite likely inspired by ACSOM’s own idle speculation.

Then there’s the curious case of Peter Lawwell’s continued influence at Celtic. Despite stepping down as CEO, his return as chairman has led to widespread speculation about his role in the club’s transfer dealings. The Celtic Blog aptly points out that this perception problem is one of the board’s own making, yet the media often overlooks such nuances, preferring instead to parrot official statements without scrutiny. 

The writer also notes that Mr Lawwell seems to have more than a few lackeys ready to “correct the record” whenever Pete dislikes the image they have painted of him, based on his own whispers into their tin orifices.

It is not merely that these gentlemen fail occasionally in their noble profession — after all, we are none of us perfect — but rather that they seem positively committed to a type of incompetence which one must almost admire, were it not so troubling to the souls who read their daily efforts. They go about their business with a bias so plain you would think it was embroidered upon their elastic neckties, and as for their ignorance — well, it is so apparent that even a pigeon, trapped in a traffic cone, sitting atop a statue on George Square can see right through it.

In my experience, when a fellow takes up writing for a living, he ought to at least put on a decent show of impartiality. But this is not the style hereabouts. The gentlemen who cover football in this country have, by and large, long ago abandoned even the pretence of neutrality, parading their prejudices around town with the subtlety of a blue bear wearing brown brogues and a brocade sash.

It is no great secret that certain teams are covered as if they are heroes fresh from some grand and noble conquest, like vanquishing the Turks on a holy crusade. Meanwhile others — despite being no less worthy — are depicted with the warmth usually reserved for an asylum seeker at a Reform Party picnic. It is a curious sort of reporting, quite bereft of fairness, and often so slanted that one must hold the newspaper at an angle just to read it properly.

What is more remarkable, however, is their apparent pride in this ignorance. I have read reports which suggest these gentlemen possess only the loosest acquaintance with the game itself. Indeed, some of their tactical analyses contain about as much insight and interest as a margarine sandwich. It makes a man wonder if perhaps their knowledge of football was acquired second-hand, from a fellow they once overheard discussing a match in the toilets of a barroom, wiping dry the porcelain so every granule of their white powder could remain sniff ably dry. 

And then, friends, there is their habit of dishonesty, which they employ more often than a crypto trader in your social media DMs. On occasion, they produce such fabrications that one must tip one’s hat at the sheer audacity involved. Their tales bear little resemblance to reality, yet they persist in presenting these falsehoods as if carved into tablets of stone, handed down from Mount Sinai itself.

Now, it could be argued that Scottish football deserves better than this sort of coverage, but perhaps the gentlemen in question are simply providing the readers what they truly desire — entertainment, rather than truth. Still, even entertainment ought to have standards, and the current crop of sportswriters seems as unfamiliar with standards as Police Scotland are with fair play.

In short, the Scottish football mainstream media has raised incompetence, bias, ignorance, and dishonesty to a sort of art form, and while one must admire their consistency, I would suggest that, for the sake of readers everywhere, they might consider trying their hand at honesty, integrity or even hard work once in a while—just to see how it feels.