Frequenters of an earlier incarnation of "Whitemoss Online" shall recall my (ir)regular column. Alas, with its demise, my services were rendered redundant but I have gladly accepted the offer to end my sabbatical and take up the reigns for a second spell. Fear not, I promise the gossip is non-offensive and in good taste.
Do you have a story for this page? Write in strict confidence to whitemossinsider@hotmail.co.uk. All contributions warmly welcomed. The Insider looks forward to hearing from you.
Is it a Bird, Is it a Plane?
The District and Closed Senior Championships happily allowed some Whitemossonians to yield some fruits from their not inconsiderable endeavours. The Insider takes this opportunity to raise his cap to a star of my recent tale, David Robertson, who shook off his nearly man tag cemented by a series of 4th place finishes by claiming the copper coloured medal for his pole vaulting heroics. The very thought of soaring over 13 feet in the air vertically with the sole aid of an instrument which could snap at any time is enough to make your correspondent extremely queasy indeed. Each to their own it could be said.
In The Wars
Still on the aforementioned Championships, it should be indicated that the events outlined above unfolded at Grangemouth. My observer at Meadowbank relays a story which raises doubt on the presumption that track and field is a relatively safe pastime. As the second of the senior men 1500m heats unfolded, the participants were tightly bunched in a way that jostling occurred. One soul had the misfortune of his heel being clipped which sent him sprawling. Gamely, he bounded on only to meet the same fate one lap down the line. It is somewhat fortuitous the pole vault was happening elsewhere since, had one of the props been in supply, our victim may have performed an assault on the offender with the prop which would have caused the recipient a certain degree of discomfort. Alas, the lead character in our tale of woe emerged from first aid with his posterior and two legs in bandages. Time, I suggest, to make helmets and shin guards mandatory in this hazardous sport.
Comeback? Perhaps Not
Regular readers may recall my musings towards the tail end of last year about the younger sibling of the lady known in these parts as "Divadebz" considering a comeback to athletics circles. It is often said that athlete retirements do not extend for too long but in this instance it may just. The Insider has learned that the younger Miss Mackie has stalled on a return to the track and field, preferring instead to work the summer holiday season abroad. Whether Vicky will dabble with the 2008/09 Indoor season, as she did on one occasion last time around, cannot yet be said with certainty. My sources ears are firmly to the ground for the latest.
Above middle: Vicky Mackie, not returning to the fold in the immediate future
Trains, More Trains and Automobiles
The devotion of some to the Whitemoss cause stretches beyond the ordinary call of duty. One such example is a young man named David Robertson. Master Robertson's mother currently assists team boss Mark Stringer with squad selections and was doing so at Linwood as Whitemoss commenced their eighth consecutive year in Division One of the Central and South of Scotland League. Spotting a gap in the senior men's two lap event, it was time to get on the blower to poor David, sound asleep in his Edinburgh student pad. A two hour expedition from Scotland's capital to Renfrewshire included a train to Glasgow, another engine to East Kilbride then a dash to the family abode to borrow mother's car and drive to the venue.
Now a team manager's golden rule is, should someone be required for an extra event, keep the fact a closely guarded secret until the last possible moment. This worked a treat as David was assigned a triple jump and segment of the 400m relay for good measure. To round things off, the same journey in reverse beckoned to conclude a hectic day.
Now the Plane Bit
Still on happenings at Linwood, the observant will notice the stadium's close proximity to Glasgow International Airport. Aeroplanes can be seen taking off and landing rather close for comfort to the competition area. There was no pole vault on the card this time but one wonders about the risk of vaulters being caught in a stray aeroplane's undercarriage. The thought makes the eyes water.
Algarve Snippets
Regular readers will have observed that the web man and recently assumed treasurer has just returned from an early spring training stint in slightly sunnier climes (he assures me the timing of his assumption to a post dealing with money and a subsequent 10 day trip abroad is purely co-incidental). My Portugal sources inform me that during one of the morning training runs, our webmaster observed that he was keeping pace with some young ladies, one of whom was around his generation. The first leg stretch of the day was duly competed with a strenuous day's sunbathing ahead before the next training stint. Wishing to be sociable, our man racked his mind for a topic to break the ice. Following some random chit chat, remembering he was wearing his Whitemoss colours for the run, he pointed this fact out to the young lady. As far as chat up lines go, it is not one of the more conventional but the young lady, from Bristol incidentally, seemed rather impressed, commenting that it was a very nice strip, no loud colours like a lot of vests. This was as good as poor Stuart's luck got but at least the good word of Whitemoss has been spread further afield.
Bar Stories- A Three Part Special
A very belated Happy New Year from your columnist. I have a triple part special to commence 2008. I shall set the background. My sources advise that, with a first wage packet since Christmas safely pocketed, a few Whitemoss committee, coaches, athletes and assorted others decided to partake in a few refreshments in the East Kilbride village's Montgomerie Arms public house. A suitably jovial time was had and, as closing time inevitably drew near, thoughts turned to visiting another night spot. Great efforts were made by the younger generation to tempt their elder colleagues along, alas unsuccessfully. Not wishing to upset their other halves, Chairman McCord and Keith Stoddart made sharp exits as did endurance coach Thom Jamieson, Allan Boyd, Ian McEwan senior and secretary Mr McMurtrie who scurried down Montgomery Street, making the feeble excuse he was "going for a kebab." With his well documented knee problems, the troops forgave the teamshouteroaner, on this occasion at least.
Part One- A Former Committee Man Mystery
On the evening in question, the gathering was accomodated in the snug bar, a smaller, more exclusive part of the establishment. In attendance was one former committee person showing a marked reluctance to join his acquaintances. He paid a brief visit prior to exiting. My sources tell me that he appeared remarkably dapper with expensive clothing, perfect hair and a pleasant aroma emanating from his clean shaven face. It was unclear who's company he was keeping. The Insider is sure there is a perfectly innocent explanation.
Part Two- Back In The Day
Among those gracing the gathering with their presence were athletes of yesteryear, Brian Potts who has led a somewhat colourful existence since his track and field days globetrotting in various holiday representative capacities, and Scott Reid. The more senior Potts brother entertained those within earshot of past relay heroics, dropping the names of former Whitemoss luminaries Craig Elder and Robert Gillespie which served to jog the memory of his younger sibling. Meanwhile, my sources advise that Mr Reid seems no older in appearance since he was last seen gracing the synthetic surface. Recalling the men's team's fate in 2006, Mr Stoddart has earmarked both young men for crucial roles in his 2008 squad. Scott muffled a promise to come to a track near us though there are no reported sightings at the time of writing. Alas, the Insider has his spies on the case ready to pounce on any developments.
Part Three- Missing Garments Appeal
Another area of discussion was a great unanswered question. The meaning of life? What became of Lord Lucan? Who writes this column? No on all three counts. The burning issue is, whatever happened to Iain McEwan junior's orange shorts? In the early to mid 2000s, these luminous undergarments were an essential part of the elder son's athletics attire. Sightings have been rare since and, in the course of the 2007 summer season, no attendees of competitions with Master McEwan had the pleasure of their company. Perhaps Iain junior is mellowing as his teenage years become a more distant memory? Not if stories of his current existence living in Glasgow's West End are anything to go by.
Above, second right- one of the last sightings of this unique legwear
This concludes your columnists triple part special. Next time you partake a refreshment in a public house, remember someone may be listening, and observing.
