THE expression “It’s a funny old game” has just taken on a somewhat different meaning for former Kilmarnock and Hibernian football manager Bobby Williamson, who is currently coaching the Ugandan national squad.
Fufa, the ruling body of Ugandan football, has announced that all football managers in the country must sign a code of conduct as part of a crackdown on homosexuality in the beautiful game.
This has left poor Bobby with a bit of a quandary. If he signs on the dotted line, he will be falling foul of Fifa’s anti-discrimination laws. Fifa was quick to challenge the stance taken by the Ugandan authorities, claiming that the Africans had broken the international code of conduct that bans any form of discrimination but, since homosexuality is still outlawed in Uganda, it is unlikely that the Ugandans will pay much attention to the demands of their more politically-correct European brothers.
I seem to remember some of Africa’s Church leaders causing a similar sort of stooshie over the ordination of homosexual clergy in this part of the world, so it’s hardly surprising that their opposite numbers in the world of football should display these homophobic tendencies.
Their anti-gay stance could cost them dearly, as Fifa has the power to make them play their games behind closed doors or even ban them from any involvement in international football if they go ahead with their petition.
Williamson says he hasn’t been asked to sign anything so far, but he seems to be hedging his bets. He has pointed out that people living and working in a country must respect that country’s laws. If and when he returns to the Scottish football scene, he might find that this argument won’t save him from a Fifa red card.
It seems that the whole thing kicked off when a Ugandan player accused a coach of getting up close and personal in the changing rooms after a game.
Mind you, when you see the carry on when players in any part of the world score a goal, it’s perhaps understandable that the Ugandan authorities are a wee bit suspicious. All that kissing, hugging and jumping on each other’s backs is bound to set off alarm bells in the minds of men who have been conditioned to look for signs of homosexuality in any given situation.
It must pose a bit of a problem for football pundits on Ugandan television when commenting on the prowess of a player. Any reference to a footballer being light on his feet could see the poor guy locked up for the rest of the season and beyond.
While on the subject of locking people up, what do you think of Jack Straw’s decision to overrule the parole board’s decision to free Great Train Robber Ronnie Biggs?
Does anyone seriously believe that the frail 79-year-old poses a threat to public safety, or could it be that the home secretary is simply using the old lag as a political football in his efforts to prove how hard the Labour government is on criminals and crime?
Biggs deserved to be put away for his part in the robbery, but does he really deserve to die in prison for his offence?
And, if he does, how much more does a knife-wielding thug deserve who stabs an innocent man to death for not telling him the time when he asked for it, as was the case in the brutal slaying of Greenock man Damian Muir at the hands of 21-year-old Barry Gavin two years ago.
Gavin was sentenced to life imprisonment with a recommendation that he should serve a minimum of 15 years, so if he keeps his nose clean in prison this homicidal maniac could be walking our streets in 13 years, at the age of 36.
But then the knifeman only took a life, while Biggs and his gang bucked the system by stealing millions of pounds – and bucking the system has always been regarded by the powers that be as a more heinous crime than murdering an individual.
Although it’s interesting that those bankers who milked the same system for considerably more millions than the train robbers got away with will not spend a day behind bars for their crimes. Yup, the law really is an ass.
As you throw yet another lottery ticket into the bin tomorrow evening, at least you can take comfort in the thought that your hard-earned cash is contributing to the incredibly vital and culturally relevant state of British art in all its splendour.
The National Lottery Fund, in its infinite wisdom, has awarded artist Sue Williams £20,000 so she can finish her vitally-important artistic experiment “to explore the cultural attitudes to female buttocks”.
Or, in other words, they have given the gifted Sue a huge wad of money to ogle women’s bums.
And to think I have been carrying out my own research into this subject for many years without being paid a penny for my efforts.
Indeed, I have even been castigated by Herself for taking my work too seriously. Like I said, there’s simply no justice in this world.
Finally, with the untimely demise of the tragic Michael Jackson, the world and his mother have been queuing up to mourn his departure.
The most pathetic contribution came from Jack Tweed.
In case you’ve forgotten, he’s the bloke who married Jade Goody shortly before she met her own tragic end.
For some unknown reason, a journalist asked Tweed for a quote. This was his underwhelming reply: “Michael wanted to speak to Jade, but Jade wasn’t well enough to speak to him, so I had to phone him. He just went: ‘Hello, this is Michael Jackson.’”
Riveting stuff, eh?
What’s the betting Tweed will turn up in I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here before long?