Trouble brewing
Back 4 almost spat its rose-tinted smoothie all over the television screen as Adrian Boothroyd, the Watford manager, informed us last week that it was only a matter of time before someone got hurt when asked by Sky about Strachangate at Pittodrie last weekend.

"Passions run high and perhaps it's time to look at better security around the dugout," he blethered.

Let's rewind here, Adrian old bean, if you don't mind.

Is it just Back 4 or is there an increasing amount of sanctimonious nonsense spouted by football people' (those who have played the game and know what they're talking about') as opposed to the ordinary punter (no idea') who seem to have forgotten that the rest of us lived through the past, too?

Perhaps, Adrian has forgotten the 1970s and, to a lesser extent the 1980s, when gangs of football casuals would regularly indulge in fist-fights on the terraces.

Perhaps too, he has forgotten that the first recorded incidence of hooliganism took place in 1846 in Derby when two troops of Dragoons were called in to restore order (yes, Back 4 had, too, but we're making a point here).

Maybe he has also forgotten that managers and players have, previously, been hit by bottles and various other missiles thrown from the crowd, an act which usually results in "someone getting hurt".

Just what did Adrian fear might have happened at Pittodrie? That Strachan would have suffered a fractured skull from the blow delivered by a particularly heavy pension book or that the smell of Dettol might prove too overpowering for Wee Gordon and remind him of a traumatic childhood incident when Granda hit his fingernail with a hammer?

Or maybe Adrian was just looking out for the fans because, after all, it's not as if a player or official has ever jumped into the crowd, feet first, seeking retribution, is it?



Hail Braveheart
Arguably the finest interview of all time appeared in last week's Daily Record and involved the level-headed, feet-on-the-ground, salt-of-the-earth Clyde manager, Colin Hendry, or Braveheart as he must only ever referred to in the red tops.

Hugh Keevins met the big man and helped open the lid on his average Joe, run-of-the-mill, just-one-of-the-lads life with the Broadwood club. It made for fascinating reading. So, for those who missed it, here are the best bits: "I'm a humble guy from a family oriented background and that's why I'll work to the very best of my ability for Clyde using my health and strength to assemble a squad on a budget of zero.

"When I go to Broadwood I write out the team lines, blow up the balls and sort out anything that needs sorting out.

"I tried to get James Grady to leave Gretna and become my assistant and main goal threat. He couldn't do it and now I have to do everything on my own while still looking for a goalscorer.

"The bottom line is I couldn't give a monkey's about the people who say, What's he doing at Clyde?' I'm not pre-occupied by personal image."

Presumably, the £70,000 Range Rover with the personal registration 5 CH' that Back 4 spotted in the Broadwood car park on Saturday belongs to someone other than Scotland's favourite man of the people.



Stalking tough
David Beckham has a stalker. No, not Posh, a real life, crazy person who isn't a figment of Posh's imagination. Honest. The Daily Star had all the gossip last week and it made for terrifying reading for all good-looking celebrities out there.

According to the Star, the obsessed fan sneaked past security at the King Edward Hotel in Toronto where Becks was staying.

Described by the Star as both sexy' and gorgeous', the real truth emerged when a source at the hotel told the paper: "She kept saying his name over and over and acted like she knew him - even though she clearly didn't. It was like something out of a stalker flick. She was using her feminine wiles, but everyone was worried about the intense look in her eyes."

Hold on. Are they absolutely sure it wasn't Posh?



Caldwell: legend
So it's official, Steven Caldwell is the best centre-half in Scotland. Says who? Says the big man himself. The Burnley defender (yes, Burnley) said last week that he deserved to be in Alex McLeish's squad for the international friendly against South Africa because, well because he's just so damn good.

"Hopefully, Alex will come to watch some Burnley games as he'll realise I'm better than the people he's got in the squad," he argued. "But I'm not holding out much hope because I was surprised not to be in the squad in the first place."

And all this said with a straight face, too. Clearly, the self-inflated ego chromosome was divided evenly between those fabulous Caldwell boys, then.

No doubt, Caldwell will claim to have been misquoted when he still hasn't been selected 18 months down the line.

A word of advice, Steven: it won't work.



Spies like us
Overheard at Broadwood on Saturday: "Well, there's the Dunfermline spy, Hamish French". So... not much of a spy then?



Falkirk clamp down on unruly journos
Covering non-Old Firm matches is normally a fulfilling experience for a hack.

Access to players is better and there is a more informal atmosphere, but Falkirk are doing their best to buck the trend. News reaches Back 4 of reporters being handed a directive at Saturday's match with St Mirren entitled 'Match Day Press Arrangement', which outlined their new approach.

At the after-match press conference, usually conducted in a huddle, reporters were told to take their seats, raise their hands if they wanted to ask a question, state their publication and proceed from there.

"Have we stumbled into the White House?", wondered one scribe.

Most bizarre of all was the insistence that the lights in the interview room should be dimmed. "I can't see my screen," complained one journalist. "Sorry, club policy," replied a club official, lurking at the side.

"I feel like I should stand up and give you a song," chuckled Gus MacPherson, the St Mirren manager, as he groped his way through the darkness to the interview table. "Shouldn't there be a pole, in here?" he added to raucous laughter.

Rumour has it that Falkirk have taken the hump over their weekly press conference a couple of weeks ago. John Hughes, the Falkirk manager, babbled contentedly to gathered hacks for the best part of 30 minutes only for the press coverage to be minimal the next day. The club clearly don't read The Herald. We dispatched our Chief Sports Writer there that week, who produced forests of newsprint. Sort it out, Bairns.



Mojo not working
Mo Johnston's Toronto FC are breaking all sorts of records in Major League Soccer. They have now gone 642 minutes without a goal - the longest drought in league history.

"We're getting chances but we just can't seem to put it in the back of the net," said star striker Collin Samuel. The ex-Falkirk and Dundee United flop's presence up front having nothing to do with that mysteriously inability to convert of course.



No flies on Beijing entrepreneurs
Beijing Olympics update No.247 (and for once it doesn't involve pollution or human rights abuses).

To present a spotless image at next year's Olympics, a pair of farmers are trying to rid China's capital of flies.

Guo Zhanqi and Ji Guijun have been staking out parks and public washrooms, videotaping flies to better understand their prey. Their goal is eradicating 80% of Beijing's insects before the games.

Ji has also submitted designs for an "ecological toilet" to replace the often filthy public latrines where insects breed. The city said no ta.