ABOUT five minutes after Calum Spence was deemed fine to continue his job as assistant referee at Livingston on Sunday he put up his flag for an offside in favour of Rangers.
It was the right call, as it so happens, but you’ve got to wonder whether there was a bit of him which wanted to allow the Livingston player through on Allan McGregor’s goal.
If you have ever been hit on the head by a coin, or any small subject, with such force that it drew blood then you’ll know it hurts. A lot. And while Spence had been patched up, the wound would have stung for the rest of that game.
Spence seemed more anxious to get on with things than angry at his head being cut open. He’s a better man than me.
Whenever something like this happens, and thankfully such incidents are rare, the actual victim tends to be forgotten about as accusations and counter-accusations dominate the debate. Spence hardly got a mention.
It was all about evil Rangers fans and their long list of crimes. The defence, as always, was that supporters of certain clubs, Celtic to pluck a name, had no right to point fingers given their own murky not so long ago past.
Indeed, there were Celtic fans apoplectic because some reports, in their eyes, didn’t make it clear enough the object was thrown by a Rangers fan. Because, as we all know, Celtic fans have never done anything wrong. Ever.
And so it goes one. And on. It seems that nobody cares about the poor sod whose head was split while at his work.
Sure, there’s a person in a lot of pain having been assaulted at a football game but who cares when there is a point to prove from a self-made morale high ground.
Spence will be back running the line soon enough. Perhaps even this weekend. And chances are last weekend is a one-off, at least in terms of his own time in football, but what does it say about people that some moron believes it to be perfectly acceptable to throw a coin at a fellow human being.
And then some, once it became apparent Milne had taken a sore on and was bleeding, offered vindication to the criminal – and that’s what the coin thrower is – by singing **** the SFA.
Yeah, that will show them. Whatever it is the SFA need to be told.
Ian Maxwell, the SFA chief executive, called it a “primitive act” which is insulting to all primates if you ask me.
Whether the halfwit gets caught is debatable. Even with CCTV, it’s far from easy to identify someone throwing a coin from a few hundred people. So, he will continue to go to games, probably boasting to his equally thick mates how he ‘pure hit that linesman and didnae get caught.’
Folks, it is 2018. Tomorrow’s World predicted we would be living on the moon by now. Instead, some living among us have regressed to dragging their knuckles along the ground.
It is hardly the fault of the other Rangers fans who must have cringed with embarrassment while their club was shamed by a mouth-breather whose idea of a Sunday afternoon at the football involves common assault.
I have been reporting on Rangers games for the best part of 25 years and have never feared for my safety at Ibrox and also, bar one or two hairy moments, away games here and abroad. While some would have you think differently, most who wear blue and white scarves know how to behave.
But it’s time proper punishments are out in place. Starting from next season. No messing about. Not any more.
One object thrown at a player or official is a caution. Two and a point is deducted. A third time sees part of the stadium shut for a game and another two points taken off. Something tells me self-policing would become a serious business then.
Spence, to me, is a bit of a hero. Being a linesman, to use an old word, is a fairly thankless job. Almost every game you get all sorts of abuse shouted at you, something which is culturally acceptable, and then you get hit on the head with a coin thrown by a coward. Alas, the beautiful game attracts some lowlifes. Bans are all well and good but docking of points would be a genuine deterrent.
AND ANOTHER THING
BRITISH sports writing lost a giant, and me a hero, last week with the sad news that James Lawton had passed away. I met him a few times. He always had a drink in one hand, fag in the other, hair all over the place and quite clearly a bit mad. So exactly as you would want. I even made him laugh once with some daft story from my own golden career. "Very good," he said and then after a pause: "It is 20 years ago to the day that Viv Richards tried to kill me." I shut up for the rest of the dinner. Nobody could top that and nobody will ever better Jim. He was a great man.
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