My way or the highway

Oh, is that what he thinks, is it?

Well, Transport Secretary, as much as I’m thrilled at your proposal that a new 80mph motorway speed limit might boost the British economy, here’s how it could affect some of the rest of us…..

• Mums will become even more nervous passengers.

• Friendly youths on bridges above us (modern day Railway Children perhaps?) may be inconvenienced as to what time is best to misplace their eggs.

• Commuting professional footballers will…….no, actually, they’ll remain at a steady 143mph.

• Husbands and wives will get to their in-laws quicker, unless they avoid motorways.

• Sat-nav hosts will take delight in announcing pre-junction instructions post-junction.


…..and, Mr Hammond, as sensible as I can see it is to have more 20mph restrictions in urban zones, that also impacts Joe Public…..


• Cyclists will bemoan cars for being too difficult and unpredictable to overtake.

• Rabbits, buoyed by increased life expectancy, will have a field day, which might drive squirrels nuts.

• Tractors could go viral.

• Chicken chow meins will be 10mph colder – unless Lee or Rafik are driving – they’re not ones for change (although they do like to be given the right change).

• Lollipop operatives across the nation might need to undergo a revised “Gauging Distance and Speed” module.


Therefore, Philip, do think carefully before you mirror, signal, manoeuvre with this vehicular vernacular.

Dear Carlos,.....

“I’ll play on broken glass in the middle of the M8 if I have to!”

That’s one quote I’ll never forget.

Churchill? No. Luther-King? Eh, wrong again. Carlos Tevez? Certainly not. Vinnie Jones? Closer, but you won’t get it.

It was expressed via the finger tips of John Welsh from Castlemilk. I still have the e-mail from May 15 2006.

Deliberately kept it.

Partly because it was funny but also due to its genuine nature – no need to close my eyes to hear him uttering the words.

At the time, John was a team-mate of mine in the amateur football league I’m still involved in. Average player. He has since hung up his boots and we have never kept in touch. Nevertheless, unlike many players who arrive and depart, this enthusiastic right-back stuck in my mind.

His quip was in response to our manager’s request for player availability for an end of season Tuesday evening fixture. Broken glass is broken glass and the M8 is Scotland’s busiest motorway.

For the record, Traffic Scotland were grateful to us in managing to get a proper pitch booked at the last minute.

John adored his football. In the aforementioned message he put the number four in brackets after his name. That was the digit on the shirt he so lovingly fathered.

The seriousness with which he treated his sporting hobby was amusingly echoed in other areas of his behaviour. I believe this next anecdote will aid your mental picture of John, no end.

On leaving from arranged meeting points in cars, I can remember more than one occasion when I saw John’s yellow MG ZR snaking from side to side in my rear view mirror. “I was just warming up my tyres,” would be the sincere retort from Mr Welsh on arrival.

He was just the kind of guy who did stuff like that.

Therefore, in the rare games when John scored, he celebrated. The aeroplane if I remember correctly – and for a good ten seconds too.

When fouled he was like Klinsmann, yet not to get the ‘oppo’ into trouble, but simply to milk all aspects of the contest (he’d have to wait seven days for the next one, for goodness sake).

Fair play, my friend.

So, Carlos, next time half an hour on the Allianz Arena’s carpet doesn’t take your fancy, give a thought to the thousands of onlooking ‘John Welshs’.