For the first time in my living memory, the SPL has re-scheduled a postponed game for the following day.
This was Sevco’s call, and the SPL have gone along with it. Livingston wanted the game played on Monday night, to give people time to make new travel arrangements and for the weather to clear up. At the time of writing this, it is still pouring down in Glasgow.
Quite how Sevco will get the necessary work done in time to make the pitch any more playable tomorrow than it is right now I do not know.
But they claim that they will be able to.
Well, more fool the SPL for agreeing to such a rescheduling.
Further embarrassment here might be looming. Even if the pitch somehow passes muster, it will be a monumental mess in midweek and if UEFA’s referee demands to look at it before the game in midweek this could be even more ridiculous.
How can the SPL have overlooked that?
Do you remember, back in December, when Gerrard was telling the SFA that he would have been perfectly happy to cancel games to accommodate Scotland? That was posturing, as I suspected at the time. Sevco does not want fixtures piling up. There will be no such talk in the coming weeks.
If Hearts take them to a replay they are in trouble. If they get through against Braga they are in trouble. They don’t have the squad to play four games in ten days at the very sharp end of a campaign … they’ll be dropping like flies, and they know it.
This move reeks of panic. Panic at Ibrox and panic at Hampden.
We have to shut out all this white noise and focus on the simple facts; whether the Ibrox game goes ahead tomorrow or not we have the chance to go 13 points clear at Aberdeen. Do our job, and it doesn’t matter whether it does or not; let them flop about on their bed of mud and sand.
It won’t suit their players and increases the possibility of people getting injured.
I think the pressure of going 13 points behind would be the final nail in their coffin.
Even if they scrape a result tomorrow – Hell, even if they put six past the visitors – the atmosphere will be funereal and the mood of the whole club will be black, like the rainclouds about the city at this moment in time, still sending it down in bucket loads.
You can smell the fear here.
What a state they’ve got themselves in.
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