Constable Savage and Commentator Brown

This article has been bouncing around my head for a few weeks, but since very few Celtic fans read my blog, it didn't seem relevant enough to post. Thanks to Paul at Celtic Quick News, things have changed somewhat in the last day!

The inspiration was hearing the classic Not The Nine O'Clock News Constable Savage sketch, on a matchday morning.

As the sketch progressed, I couldn't help but transpose Jock Brown and his ongoing obsession with Neil Lennon, for the aforementioned constable.

(As an aside, there's a long standing movie cliche that the boy/girl usually fight like crazy before eventually succumbing to their true feelings. Does Jock have a crush on Neil?)

Of course all of this is purely a product of my fevered imagination, and couldn't possibly have the slightest grounding in reality or fact.

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The Scene: Jock(J) is taken to task by the producer(P) for complaints about his commentating.

P: (The Setanta producer’s voice has a cutting edge.) Come in, shut the door. Now then, Brown, I want to talk to you about some comments you have been making lately. I think that perhaps you’re being a little overzealous.
J: (in a loud and somewhat pompous voice) Which comments do you mean then, sir?
P: Well, for instance, this one: loitering with intent to pass the ball to a team mate. Brown, maybe you’re not aware of this, but it is not illegal to make an accurate pass. Neither is running less quickly than others an offence.
J: You’re sure, sir?
P: Also there is no law against making a tackle on an opponent or sweating on the field of play.
J: If you say so, sir.
P: Yes, I do say so, Brown! Didn’t they teach you anything at law school?
J: I’m sorry, sir.
P: Some of these cases are plain stupid: looking at Barry Ferguson in a funny way ...Is this some kind of joke, Brown?
J: No, sir.
P: And we have some more here: walking on the grass, wearing a hooped shirt in a built-up area on a Sunday afternoon and possession of an offensive heritage. In short, Brown, in the space of one season you’ve brought 117 ridiculous, trumped-up and ludicrous charges.
J: Yes, sir.
P: Against the same man, Brown.
J: Yes, sir.
P: A Mr Neil Lennon of Glasgow Celtic.
J: Yes, sir.
P: (to Brown, who’s been standing so far) Sit down, Brown!
J: Yes, sir.
P: Brown, why do you keep criticising this man?
J: He’s a villain, sir.
P: A villain...
J: And a jailbird.
P: (exploding) I know he’s a jailbird, Brown. He’s down in the cells now. The SFA are holding him on a charge of possession of ginger hair and an Irish accent.
J: Well, well, well, well there you are, sir.
P: You accused him, Brown!
J: (stupidly pleased) Thank you, sir.
P: Brown, would I be correct in assuming that Mr Lennon is a Catholic gentleman?
J: Well, I can’t say I’ve ever noticed, sir.
P: (absolutely furious) Brown, you’re a bigot. It’s journalists like you that give the media a bad name. The fans love to jump on instances like that and the reputation of our profession can be permanently tarnished. Your whole time on television is dominated by racial hatred and petty personal vendettas. Do you get some kind of perverted gratification from going around stirring up trouble?
J: Yes (!), sir!
P: There’s no room for men like you in my company, Brown. I’m transferring you to The Sunday People. Get out!
J: Thank you, sir. (leaves the room)