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souness to return


MisterC

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Started a thread on this potentially happening a few days ago and there were a lot of fans against it.

I wouldn't mind him back, as he would be a good character to have at the Club.

Doesn't seem likely though, with his health and his cushy job at Sky.

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Seeing chat on Facebook about Souness coming home to Ibrox. Thoughts?

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That would prove that Kennedy is in amongst the new shareholders team or about to join them. Brian Kennedy loves Souness and wanted him involved previously.

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That would prove that Kennedy is in amongst the new shareholders team or about to join them. Brian Kennedy loves Souness and wanted him involved previously.

Brian Kennedy would be great if he got involved aswell. More Rangers men in charge at the top the better

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Souness's time has passed by. he took advantage of a ban on English teams from Europe and brought them to Ibrox, and bless him for doing that. However. That ship sailed a long long time ago. Time to remember our legends for what they did in their time not try and bring them back to recreate it. The Only role I could see Souness in is as director of football.

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Seeing chat on Facebook about Souness coming home to Ibrox. Thoughts?

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Facebook is pish.

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Graeme Souness to be stage hit for Alan Bissett

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Graham Souness introduced what you could broadly call Thatcherite values into the game says Alan Bissett. Picture: Allan Milligan

  • by CLAIRE GARDNER

Updated on the03January

2015

00:00

Published 02/01/2015 23:28

HE IS one of the most iconic, influential and irascible sporting figures Scotland has produced.

Graeme Souness was the fearless footballing midfield general who led Liverpool to cup glory before sparking a far-reaching revolution when he took up the challenge of reviving the fortunes of his beloved Glasgow Rangers.

He was revered and reviled in almost equal measures after being appointed player-manager in the spring of 1986.

Now the story of Souness, the huge impact he made on the game north of the Border and his downfall as a manager after walking out on Rangers – at the height of a title race – is to be turned into a major new play.

One of Scotland’s leading playwrights has revealed his plans to bring the Souness saga to the stage in 2016 – to coincide with the 30th anniversary of his arrival at the Ibrox giants.

And today, The Scotsman offers an exclusive sneak preview of the one-man show, as part of The Write Stuff, the newspaper’s weekly series devoted to Scotland’s best writing talent.

Falkirk-born Alan Bissett – an award-winning novelist, playwright and performer, hopes his play will appeal to both football fans and theatre lovers.

The long-time Rangers fan may himself play Souness on stage in the show, which is said to chart “the rise and fall of one of European football’s most iconic and divisive talents”.

Bissett told The Scotsman: “Souness was the manager when I was first getting into them, and his arrival had this immediate effect on everyone my age, and on Scottish football. Almost overnight Rangers became the coolest thing in the world.

“In my memory, he and Margaret Thatcher are these twin colossi striding across the landscape of my childhood, and so I wanted to explore his significance – for me and for Scotland.

“He is absolutely crucial to the story of Scottish football over the last 30 years. Even apart from his huge significance as a player, he absolutely transformed the game, for better or worse.

“He introduced what you could broadly call Thatcherite values into the game, which certainly made for some excitement and glamour in Scottish football, but ultimately and indirectly led to the financial instability we’ve seen in major clubs, including Rangers, in the last five years.

“But he turned an ailing club into a side that dominated Scottish football for another 25 years, overturning traditions as he went. He brought English internationals to Glasgow, bought Scotland’s first black player and ended Rangers’ sectarian signing policy.

“All that’s apart from the fact that he was one of the greatest players Scotland ever produced.”

Bissett is working on the play after co-editing a collection of essays about the relationship between Rangers, their fans, and British and Scottish national identity, which was published in the run-up to the independence referendum.

Bissett’s was one of the most prominent cultural voices to enter the independence debate, and his work will be one of the few plays to have been inspired by Scottish football.

A notable exception is Des Dillon’s Singin’ I’m No’ A Billy He’s A Tim, a comedy about a Rangers fan and a Celtic fan locked up together on the day of an Old Firm match.

Bissett added: “Most playwrights probably think football receives enough public attention as it is, and they’re not wrong, but football is an integral part of Scottish society and as ripe for examination as anything else. There are also great difficulties in discussing the Old Firm – ­because you run the risk of angering about half of Glasgow – so playwrights tend to go for the funny bone. But I want to do a serious piece of theatre about a serious man, and football hasn’t been treated that way onstage very often.

“I think the play will appeal to football fans, who maybe don’t consider themselves regular theatre-goers, but I also think theatre-goers will get a great ­experience as well.

“The language of the play is heightened, almost Shakespearean – and Souness’s character is so mythical and powerful in nature that I’m hoping people who have no interest in Scottish football will still have an entertaining, and sometimes challenging, night of theatre.”

The extract featured in The Scotsman today recalls the disastrous debut of Souness in Rangers colours, when he was sent off against Hibs at Easter Road, sparking an ugly melee involving almost every player on the pitch and the first of many run-ins with the Scottish Football ­Association.

Bissett said: “His reputation on the park, and his leadership gifts, were fearsome. He was only 33 when he became player-manager of Rangers and went about things with an utter confidence and certainty – transforming the nature of the Scottish game around him – which ultimately hardened into an inflexibility and constant war-footing.

“He came into conflict with almost everyone around him in Scotland – his players, referees, the SFA, journalists, even his own fans – and yet never deviated from the conviction that he was right and everyone else wrong.”

• Alan Bissett’s Collected Plays will be published by Freight on 3 March.

Alan Bissett’s Souness: An exclusive extract

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Jesus! Our own fans talking of " ending the sectarian signing policy", which actually only really existed on the other side of the city and in Leith before then.

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Alan Bissett’s Souness: An exclusive extract
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Sounesss manner in the dressing room was rewarded in equal measure by critics off the pitch. Illustration by Grant Paterson

  • by ALAN BISSETT

Updated on the03January

2015

00:18

Published 03/01/2015 00:00

2 commentsHave your say!

It’s the 1980s and a new era dawns on Scottish football. Rangers stride on to the pitch to face Hibs. What happens next isn’t pretty, in the re-imagined first match of their swaggering player-manager

This is my dressing-room now.

Concern yourselves not with how this miracle has come to pass, only with the fact the Ibrox grass out there’s the stage – the global stage – on which you, my army, Rangers, will be under my command.

Bring me the head of Scotland.

You will have heard my legend. I’m spoken of by smaller men who still pretend to know the game from commentary boxes, broken alcoholics tipping gin – women! I’ve come to Ibrox from Sampdoria.

Do you know how hard Italians are?

Look at this scar. Like a shark bite.

I was captain of the mighty Liverpool FC, who I led to European glory twice, while you were running up and down the Gullane Sands pretending to be men, languishing – what is it? – fifth? Below the Celtic, Hearts, Dundee Utd, Aberdeen. What team is this! The fabled Glasgow Rangers? I think not. You couldn’t swat a fly. Let’s not be shy here: I’m not in this to be nice, or fair. Fear and fear alone is what will win the day, the fear a man has when he comes towards you, playful, sashaying, tempting as a spoiled princess, rolling near, until a behemoth he’d never reckoned with clatters him to death. The rest will scatter. Follow me and I will bring to Ibrox such success that other squads will fall upon their swords and look up, baffled, asking what just happened, by which time a reborn Glasgow Rangers – mine! – will’ve stormed to nine league titles in a row. That record may sit prettily in Parkhead now, but will be snatched away by Graeme Souness one fine day.

On this side of the room: Ally Dawson, Dave McKinnon, Colin Miller, Derek Johnstone, John McDonald, Nicky Walker, Williamson, McCloy and Paterson – ye’re oot!

Davie Cooper, ‘Super Ally’, Ted McMinn, you have the scent of victory, so may stay. Don’t make me regret this decision. I’ll need some skillful kids: Durrant, Macpherson, Nisbet, Fleck and Ferguson. You will form the backbone of a side that will become the best in Europe. All the rest? Just go. Just get your arses out my dressing-room.

And so.

Now that I have taken out the trash, I introduce your captain, freshly bought from Ipswich Town. The jewel in this crown. Such is my ambition I have switched that time-worn flow into reverse: the finest English talent come to Glasgow for my project. You will give this man the same respect which you accord to me. He will be joined by stars from far afield, so many that for several years it will seem as though the England team has but a single dream: to play for Rangers. Celtic are pretenders. Meet your future, gents, our new defender, Terry Butcher.

BUTCHER

Thank you, Mr Souness.

Lads. To be your captain is an honour.

I’m asking you to carry swords, to do me justice.

I live by just three rules: fair play, courage and the school of hard, hard knocks. The English way. I am an Englishman. Yet here am I surrounded by the Jocks. How did that happen? The English have no place here.

Or do we? Or do we?

Are not Rangers British?

More to the point, how do the Scots fit into this?

Durrant? McCoist? Can I call you Jocks?

Can you call me an English bastard? No, you can’t.

I am on higher wages than you lot.

Thatcher’s law: the best is richest; richest is the best. Let’s test this, take it to the field of play. If you produce results the way that I do Mr Souness will, no doubt, pay what he pays me. But I have faith in my ability. Under Bobby Robson I won European trophies. I’ve just returned from Mexico, the World Cup, up against Diego Maradona. He cheated, but I kept my honour. These are the highest reaches of the game. Who here can say they’ve reached the same?

In this dressing-room there hangs a portrait of Her Majesty; take in the sight. I am her knight, defender of her glory, borne from England’s history, from the lineage of Cromwell, Churchill, Nelson, Merlin, Wellington, The Conqueror and I, Sir Terry Butcher. Here lies my future, everything, my heart, my soul, my blood, my guts. My studs will slide through Scottish mud all for the honour of this club. And so, Rangers FC, I take this sword and kneel before thee, promise you that if you will accept this Englishman he won’t just lead, but die for you, the highest rank of duty in this beautiful endeavour we call football.

Let’s do battle! Our learning begins with this first match against Hibernian; they never liked the Rangers. We’ll give them greater need to hate us: our newfound status, glamour, wealth, celebrity. Expect their enmity and spite. So let’s fight them. For goodness sake, for Graeme Souness, for the UK, Queen and Union Jack, let us take this country back, take that field and make them feel the wrath of Glasgow Rangers!

ARCHIE

Whoof! It’s August. Football is upon us. Busloads of fans have docked in Leith, Easter Road resplendent in the summer sun. The season has begun. It’s Rangers versus Hibs, in Souness’s first game as player-manager. Nothing average about this atmosphere. Look at that stride. Look at the thighs on him, the size of them. The air is heightened. There’s the English signings, Terry Butcher looking sharp, Chris Woods in goal. Brave souls to travel all the way up here to earn a crust. The Good, the Bad and the Ugly theme tune’s playing for them. Game on! Here come Hibs, making angry tackles on the Rangers gaffer, that’s bound to be a yellow card, but no – the referee ignores it. Ohhh lovely bit of play from Souness, making space like some big graceful antelope on steroids. The crowd noise here is deafening! Several foes are hoping to get in about the midfield general now, trying hard to crowd him, oooft, McCluskey comes in late. Souness doesn’t hestitate he’s-

He’s attacked the man! Studs-up! McCluskey looks I’d say, well, pretty f***ed up. That’s a bad retaliation from the Rangers player-manager. Both sides have flung themselves into the fray now! It’s a pub mêlée! Three, four, seven, nine all have a go. Oh these are shameful scenes at Easter Road.

And it’s a red card! Souness has been given marching orders. Why did he barge around as though he owned the place, his first match in charge? His father’s watching this disgrace. Such ugliness just doesn’t augur well, it’s quite absurd. The SFA are bound to call him in to have a word.

SOUNESS

Father. I apologise for my behaviour. Your good son Graeme gave you games in which you could take pride, years of them– not once a sending off – but, I fear, this time the red mist overcame me, shamed me. I hope you understand. I know you must be hurting badly, felt you witness from the stands, the same way you observed me – cautious as a bird of prey – hurtling over Saughton pitches as a boy, slicing through, and I’d look up and see you there, stern arms crossed and taking in my every move, my every kick, my every momentary loss, while planning how to school me over dinner.

In such ways did I become a winner.

But you must know just why that card was flashed. Father, I was suckered into lashing out, acted out of f***ing desperation. Rangers face intimidation but we will never let ourselves be trampled on. These dreams of ours are made of stone and steel. We must meet fire with fire with yet more fire; with physicality, with every fibre of our being we will prove ourselves superior. They won’t be allowed to beat us. I am not cowed, oh father. I can’t change tack or attitude, my mood is real and strong, a barely-dimmed aggression simmering beneath this tailored frame. You share my name. You know all this. You brought me to the game. I thank you, Mr Souness.

SFA

Mr Souness.

Explain for us this case of Hibs v Glasgow Rangers, for it strikes us as most strange. A yellow card was shown to twenty men, ten of these under were your control. You’ve been called before the SFA, this disciplinary, because this is a serious event, quite without a precendent in Scottish football. Luckily, there was no crowd trouble, but if this rowdiness had happened on the street there would have been arrests. And so, a test of your supposed manners: there will be a four-match ban, for failing singularly to meet what is expected of a man. Now, what action will you take against your own?

SOUNESS

None. I won’t rebuke them.

SFA

Then we will throw the book at them.

Do you condone their immature behaviour?

SOUNESS

Yes.

SFA

And thus, you set the tone for the Souness era.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Alan Bissett is a novelist and playwright from Falkirk, who lives in Glasgow. In 2012 he was Glenfiddich Spirit of Scotland Writer of the Year. His novels include Death of a Ladies’ Man and Pack Men, both of which were shortlisted for the Scottish Mortgage Investment Trust Fiction of the Year prize. His Collected Plays will be published in February 2015 by Freight. Souness will be performed onstage in 2016, 30 years after the appointment of Graeme Souness as player-manager of Glasgow Rangers FC. This script is a theatrical conceit and not the actual words or testimony of the real-life people it depicts.

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Just what we need to drive us forward a 62 year old with a dogy ticker.

Why do we insist in looking in our rear-view mirrors for solutions? Souness time at Rangers has past and we need to move on. There must be some candidates our there better suited to the role. Could we approach Nerlinger again now that McCostalot is in his Beechgrove Garden?

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