“Ronnie Scotland is not his real name.”
“What is it then?”
“Ronnie McDevitt,” I reply, looking up Amazon Books for proof.
In doing so I find this review of Ronnie’s More Than Argentina: The Biography of Ally MacLeod.
“How many books has Ronnie authored, exactly?”
“I don’t know exactly, loads I imagine, and I think they’re all about Scotland.”
If only I had a wee bawbee for every time someone has told me they bumped into Ronnie on every Scotland away trip ever. In my case, I think it’s true.
I’ve not always been so lucky. One time I bumped into Weegie Al aka Alan Huey, the only man on the West Fife Villages Pub Watch blacklist, and I met Billy ‘the chameleon’ George who was wearing full Tartan Army garb. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I was just surprised. I had no idea Billy even liked Scotland. Of course he’s now taken it too far.
“So, why is he called Ronnie Scotland?”
“Aye, guid wan, very droll.”
Of course, there’s always a wee bit of competition. Who has the bonniest toorie on their glengarry. Best photobombing whilst wearing a glengarry. My pal Bloo aka Paul Ward has an honourable mention in these categories.
Who has the furriest sporran, the sharpest sgian dubh, and, for me at least, most important of all, the darkest blue (almost black) Scotland fitba’ shirt.
Of course the real test is TV stardom. Billy managed a 30 second bust on BBC Reporting Scotland. Ronnie managed a 5 minute feature all about himself during Euro ’96.
However, Bloo wins. He had a 10 minute interview on Dutch TV. Don’t say it only counts on British TV. That won’t go down well in this company.
Hang on, that looks like Bloo doing a legitimate interview on British TV. We’ll I never.
Losing to Bloo on TV stardom isn’t Ronnie’s only badge of shame. I’ve always suspected him to be a sychophant sooking up to Brazil by saying, “Aw naw, we shouldn’t have annoyed them,” after Dave Narey blootered his famous toepoke past a bunch of hapless Brazilians in the 1982 World Cup Finals. Graeme Souness was as good as Sócrates. Medals on the table: Souness three European Cups, Doctor Sócrates nil.
I really hope we don’t have that kind of inferiority complex during Euro 2020. What we need is a TwinsTown Scotland song. A true fitba’ anthem, better than Ally’s Army by Andy Cameron, until now our only half-decent Scotland song. It definitely needs to be better than the best England songs, arguably World in Motion by New Order, Three Lions by David Baddiel, Frank Skinner, and The Lightning Seeds, and Fat Les’ Vindaloo.
I know we’re adopting Yes Sir, I Can Boogie by Baccara and Saturday Night by Whigfield, but TwinsTown can do an original track. Dunfermline toun legend Ronnie Scotland can do a John Barnes rap and Bloo can play the bagpipes.
I love to see a happy Tartan Army and I’m sure Ronnie will support me why I say that Ally MacLeod and Jimmy Hill united to abolish the maximum wage. Trade unionists know no borders. Remarkably, Jimmy also revolutionised football with three points for a win.