Simmering Old Firm rivalry is stuff of reality TV dreams

Those in the entertainment industry have felt no shame about exploiting – sorry, I mean paying tribute to – those affected by the 9/11 and 7/7 incidents, the Iraq War, the …  well, basically whichever situations might elicit the most salacious vicarious pleasures, regardless of any pesky morality.

With that as a given, why not make as much capital about Scotland’s unique claim to fame, where goons aplenty spill onto the streets causing mayhem after a bunch of overpaid buffoons have leathered a ball about for 90 minutes or so, often causing chaos mayhem themselves, on and off the pitch?

Enough of trying to turn our backs on it. This is a prime-time TV dream, were TV schedulers only able to realise that any more frightening baggage can be easily swept under the carpet It’d be like a real-life Fight Club for the 21^st century, except with Brad Pitt and Edward Norton replaced by soon-to-be rival managers Ally McCoist and Neil Lennon. Hubba hubba ladies, eh?

If the viewing public were transfixed by My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding – where the intricacies of a whole ethnic group were condescendingly reduced to a squawking, multi-coloured spectacle at which we could gawp and laugh – just imagine what they’ll make of a shock doc about the build-up and fallout from each of the Old Firm encounters

Indeed, let’s imagine it. Episode One, in which El Hadji Diouf tries to have a rare relaxing afternoon doing a bit of bowling at Kelvingrove when – uh oh! – who should show up on the green next to him but Scott Brown! Suddenly both are issuing bilious threats and chucking bowls down the green at each other while the wise old greenkeeper nods his head sadly, obviously thinking “Why does this always happen to me?” It’d be a right hoot, especially if I’m Alright by Kenny Loggins is playing in the background.

Episode Two: Lennon is fuming because McCoist has called him a “ginger whinger” in a special opinion piece for the Beano, which also makes mention of apparent poor hygiene habits. The incandescent Hoops manager would then subsequently sneak into the Ibrox car park wearing a giant afro wig in an undercover attempt to key Super Ally’s prized Vauxhall Corsa, except he that mistakenly scratches up Hugh Dallas’s vehicle instead . Whoops-a-daisy! Ooh, it’d be daggers drawn from either dugout the next Sunday, let me tell you.

Breaking away from dull old reality, you could take over other TV shows with the Old Firm’s branding . Total Wipeout could be made infinitely more amusing by having some of their legendary veterans scything and hacking at each other’s attempts to make it through the obstacle course. Just imagine Andy Goram flopping off those giant balls as he tries to make his way over in record time, or Charlie Nicholas slopping around in the mud while trying to retain any remaining dignity whatsoever. What fun! Two bands led by Kyle Lafferty and Georgios Samaras could battle it out on a resurrected Popstars: The Rivals, with special ear plugs on sale at your local supermarket just in case their efforts are as painful as you’d imagine. Oh, and all that would be just for starters.

The best thing about all of this is that the huge profits could in part be used to repair the damage allegedly caused by the post-match mayhem. Just as the fact that alcohol is heavily taxed allows us Scots the right to get utterly trashed every weekend – nicking traffic cones to wear on our heads, then picking fights with lampposts before urinating and/or vomiting over any passers-by or pets in the vicinity – so the nation’s coffers could be recompensed for whatever might be attributable to any Old Firm aftermath.

Instead of being Scotland’s Shame the Old Firm can be Scotland’s Claim to Fame! Take a look at the headlines on any given day and it’s obvious that fractious relationships are the most enthralling of all. Peace and calm just doesn’t sell. Rather than concentrate on the negative side of things , it’s about time that we focus on the positives. We’ve got the equivalent of Holyfield vs. Tyson, except that it’s about 20 times as exciting when you count all the players, managers, physios and ballboys, each individual seeming to regard their opposite numbers with an equal amount of loathing.

And by concentrating on the entertainment, we can condemn the religious contrivances as absurd as they’ve always been to anyone outside the self perpetuating loop. The benefits to us will be enormous and we won’t need to waste time, effort and money on silly summits that will inevitably conclude everyone ought to behave a bit better. Let’s face it, that’s not going to happen anytime soon.  Everyone loves a bit of a rammy, so let’s give them what they want, instead of pretending that we’re actually any better than that. We’ll all be the richer for it, and what other purpose do these clubs serve anymore anyway? Best cash in while we can and enjoy the spoils, rather than gnashing our teeth and all being losers in the end.

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