THE INDIGNATION and fury aimed at Barry Ferguson and Allan McGregor all this week should not have surprised them, but I bet it did. Put simply, if they had been aware of the furore to come they would not have gone on an all-nighter, or if they were hellbent on a bender, they would have done so in a more private setting.
From the outside it is hard to imagine what they were thinking as a couple of convivial drinks morphed into a serious session. Did they think that it was actually acceptable behaviour? Did they think such a high-class hotel wouldn't contain guests re
ady to phone a tabloid newspaper? Or like many drinkers before them, did two of the most high-profile people in the country feel more and more invisible as the night wore on?
The entire scenario doesn't bear any logical scrutiny, but then that has always been the case down the years with players, and international occasions have their own particular temptations.
First of all, do not forget that this is four or five days away from the wife and kids for these guys. While we all know they should be utterly professional, the temptation to take advantage of the time off from family responsibility is often too much to resist. I am not convinced that was really the case for McGregor, but Barry Ferguson is much more likely to fall into this category. It is also time away from the club, where a manager will know precisely who the likely lads are and will generally keep an eye on them when there is a night on the tiles being planned.
There is also often a bit of bravado involved; when any 'lightweights' want to sneak off to bed they are roundly abused by the core drinkers. They may even suggest that leaving the party shows a lack of team spirit when the boys are on the lash. What they are actually doing is trying to cover themselves in case they get caught; there is safety in numbers for the determined drinker. So it is selfish as well as monumentally stupid.
In my entire career I never did succumb to the pressures of the drinking crew, unless of course I fancied a few glasses. Others, however, were more insecure and felt the need to be part of the crowd. You think this wouldn't happen to international players, that these guys should be fairly seasoned and self-assured, but time and again in my days with Scotland I was surprised to witness sheep following the growling lions. Managers have to be aware of these situations developing.
I remember one time that was eerily similar to the plight of the Loch Lomond two. On this occasion myself and another player arrived at Gleddoch House Hotel late on Sunday evening after playing in a Merseyside derby. Andy Roxburgh used the same line as George Burley: "Have a couple to relax and then get to bed. We will see you at training in the morning." I had a couple of white wines and my drinking buddy had a couple of beers, then the unexpected happened.
The barman said: "Look lads, I'm off home now, just help yourselves, lock up when you're finished and leave the keys at reception." I managed to resist the temptation, but my mate didn't. He did see the manager in the morning, actually he probably saw two of him and the sudden hamstring tightness he affected fooled no one.
He didn't start on the Wednesday and he wasn't trusted again as far as I know, but no one was any the wiser because the bar was empty and he had realised the chances of being caught were fairly limited. It is also clearly the case that the press were less intrusive in those days. Any footballer who doesn't realise the fourth estate are paying more attention to their behaviour clearly hasn't being paying attention over the past decade.
One of the old tricks was to travel abroad to shake off the press hounds. Back in 1992 Scotland were in the USA and Canada for final preparations for the European Championship in Sweden. Part of it was to get good competitive matches, part of it was to get away from the pressure building at home, but there is no doubt that having an ocean between the team and most of the people who were likely to report the most minor indiscretions also came into the calculations.
Once gain a level of trust was thrust upon the players. There was to be a free night when the players were going to be treated like intelligent adults. There would be no chaperones, just an 11 o'clock curfew, and of course absolutely no "guests" to the hotel.
In an unusual move Andy suggested that four of the longest-serving, most trusted and most prominent players were to oversee the lads. As I recall only one of those four actually made it back within an hour of the curfew; it was bedlam with alarms going off all night because of people sneaking in back doors, through the hotel kitchens and bedroom windows in the wee small hours.
The lesson was learned then, but what have we learned over the past week? In short, you trust professional footballers at your peril, even if there is clear evidence that the drinking culture that used to be endemic in the game is on the wane.
The players involved this week have also learned that their status as idols at Ibrox does not give them any leeway when they let their country down. It is a good message for all players to have rammed down their throats now and again. For all that Barry and Allan may have been slyly giving the press the finger from the Hampden bench, what they patently failed to realise is what the rest of us all did: that the press on this occasion were doing the game and the country a service.
George Burley may well have learnt more than everyone, else however. First he knows more about who he can rely on and who he can trust. He also knows that some players can be treated like adults but it is probably best to employ a chaperone all the same.
The full article contains 1064 words and appears in Scotland On Sunday newspaper.
