For those unconvinced that Scottish independence would be a panacea for all our woes, we can at least be assured help is at hand from a (very) unlikely source.
Downing Street has been toying with an idea to persuade the Duke and Duchess of Wessex – steady Eddie and safe-as-houses Sophie – to swap Surrey for Scotland to save the Union.
Apparently, with the SNP surging ahead in the polls, No 10 is concerned that the break up of the UK is on the horizon and that the presence of the Wessexes at Holyrood House would go some way towards preventing that.
But doesn’t such a proposal – a former It’s a Knockout contestant and his wife being re-settled in Edinburgh – highlight that the English, those living south of the border, don’t understand us?
Let’s face it, how many Scots trooped to London to mourn Princess Diana?
And did you, as Boris Johnson urged, clap for Captain Sir Tom Moore to mark his death last week?
Now, there are calls for a statue in his honour and a hospital to be named after him to show our appreciation that he raised £33m for the NHS.
There’s even talk of a special coin being struck by the Royal Mint while TV presenter Carol Vorderman wants a national holiday every year in his memory.
Whoa! Hold your horses!
Sir Tom was rightly celebrated for his remarkable effort and he was fortunate enough to become a close friend of Piers Morgan, at least according to the TV host.
Alas, Sir Tom isn’t around to confirm that.
So, did you fall into line with Boris and applaud in your avenue? Clap up your close? Cheer in your cul-de-sac? Doubt it.
I was convinced of the difference between the Scots and the English more than 30 years ago when, during a stay in Middlesex, I was invited with my wife to a party in a local pub; one of those with oak beams and a buxom barmaid.
Soon, there were two rows of guests seated on the floor, rowing-boat style, and singing a song while miming as if they were Katherine Grainger or Sir Steve Redgrave.
Inexplicably, I felt a mix of discomfort and a strange resentment towards them.
In Scotland, those on the floor of a pub would be “the defeated”, rendered unconscious by a headbutt or a short left-hook to the stomach.
Our version of It’s a Knockout.
Edward and Sophie, known in Scotland as the Earl and Countess of Forfar, may be better advised to remain where they are and recognise their presence here wouldn’t make a blind bit of difference to our political landscape.
Fans need to get real on gaffer’s Dons years
The genie is out of the bottle.
When Aberdeen FC chief Dave Cormack was boxed into a corner and forced to publicly back Derek McInnes after Dons fans called for the manager’s head, the issue was not that the chairman supported his man, but that it needed to be addressed.
Now that it’s out in the open, it will remain in the consciousness of the club’s supporters, particularly those of the deluded variety who believe at the start of each season their team are serious contenders for the Premiership title.
So, unless third place and European football are secured during this campaign, more answers will be demanded of Cormack, although silverware from cup competitions should have been delivered to the Pittodrie trophy room on a more regular basis.
Football management is masochism in the extreme, underlined by Sir Matt Busby when he quit as manager of Manchester United and told of the constant pressure and strains and stresses of the job.
Sure, the Aberdeen fans are right to complain about the style of play, the dullness of some performances and a strange inability to discover a goalscorer.
And of course they’re miffed at losing to teams they consider inferior, but they must surely accept it would be difficult to better the achievements of the McInnes years.
Food for thought on key to success
Livingston FC’s pre-match team talk over tortellini and tiramisu before victory at Pittodrie was an eye-opener.
We thought restaurants were closed during the Covid crisis, but observers who spotted the Lions’ bus outside the Tony Macaroni eatery at Marischal Square, Aberdeen, smelt a ragu.
The restaurant chain sponsors the team. So, it was a pizzeria perk.
One eyewitness was “disgusted” after seeing the players “sitting there all with their team logo on show on their tracksuits”.
She didn’t like the trackie tops, then. But I’ll bet she would have welcomed a bite of their bruschetta.
This article originally appeared on the Evening Express website. For more information, read about our new combined website.
