QoSStewartry

Gutted about The Rangers ticket allocation. This is the first season in 8 I didn't enter the shirt draw, and I didn't buy a season ticket out with that. I moved back to Edinburgh so will make more away than home. Was looking forward to a Glasgow trip. Absolutely agree season ticket holders get first dibs - and at least our 1,000 will be supporters who turn up every week. Not a chance I could stomach sitting in the home stands. On the plus, it's made me get off my arse and come down for today's game. Though D&G made it difficult to travel down last night - A701 shut and massive delays on the A75. Those who can make it - show Ibrox some Manners!

Anyone interested in buying a season ticket for the rest of the season (much cheapness). Asking on behalf a non-forum friend who has moved, so won't get back for home games. I know it's not the done thing to even offer - against the rules, blah blah blah. Just be a shame for the tickets to go to waste (I refuse to tout at the games). PM me if interested.

Aye, appreciate the thought mate. That'd normally do it, but we're only 3 points above them. Bawling ...

Just took this during the West Ham v Man City game. Edited: to clarify I'm not at the game. I'm gently sobbing in a corner after yet another loss.

Just listen to her on the News Quiz. You won't have to look at her (and it's rather brilliant). Susan Calman cracks me up when she's on it, but was god awful live.

I thought we dominated today. Generally excellent passing, held possession, confidence going forward. I counted 9 corners for us, 1 for Hearts. Plenty of chances created - and plenty on target. Hearts goalie often made the difference, but our finishing was often poor. No idea if our trial goalie is any good - he had nothing to do. Agree that trialist 4 was superb. Someone work out who he is for sure, get him signed. Hearts looked tired. Also a tad frustrated towards the end. Good travelling support, with both players and support showing mutual appreciation before kick off. Pitch looked excellent and I certainly didn't notice it making a negative difference to players. Very happy with what I saw from us today. Bodes well.

Below was shared by an acquaintance who freely admits she's a parent because they 'forget' to use a condom only months after they met (= kid 1) Got married when they 'forgot' the condom a second time only a year later (= kid 2) 10 years on utterly despise each other, but try to trick themselves into believing their kids make their marriage (and very existence) worthwhile. Procreation is not new or (for most) difficult. But seems it's now okay to be a sanctimonious twunt because some little person calls you ‘mum’. (and FYI - my mum managed to look after us lot, work AND maintain her personal hygiene) Dear Mom, I've seen you around. I've seen you screaming at your kids in public, I've seen you ignoring them at the playground, I've seen you unshowered and wearing last night's pajama pants at preschool drop-off. I've seen you begging your children, bribing them, threatening them. I've seen you shouting back and forth with your husband, with your mom, with the police officer at the crosswalk. I've seen you running around with your kids, getting dirty and occasionally swearing audibly when you bang a knee. I've seen you sharing a milkshake with a manic 4-year-old. I've seen you wiping your kids' boogers with your bare palm, and then smearing them on the back of your jeans. I've seen you carry your toddler flopped over the crook of your arm while chasing a runaway ball. I've also seen you gritting your teeth while your kid screamed at you for making him practice piano, or soccer, or basket weaving or whatever it was. I've seen you close your eyes and breathe slowly after finding a gallon of milk dumped into your trunk. I've seen you crying into the sink while you desperately scrub crayon off your best designer purse. I've seen you pacing in front of the house. I've seen you at the hospital waiting room. I've seen you at the pharmacy counter. I've seen you looking tired and frightened. I've seen a lot of you, actually. I see you every single day. I don't know if you planned to be a parent or not. If you always knew from your earliest years that you wanted to bring children into the world, to tend to them, or if motherhood was thrust upon you unexpectedly. I don't know if it meets your expectations, or if you spent your first days as a mom terrified that you would never feel what you imagined "motherly love" would feel like for your child. I don't know if you struggled with infertility, or with pregnancy loss, or with a traumatic birth. I don't know if you created your child with your body, or created your family by welcoming your child into it. But I know a lot about you. I know that you didn't get everything that you wanted. I know that you got a wealth of things you never knew you wanted until they were there in front of you. I know that you don't believe that you're doing your best, that you think you can do better. I know you are doing better than you think. I know that when you look at your child, your children, you see yourself. And I know that you don't, that you see a stranger who can't understand why the small details of childhood that were so important to you are a bother to this small person who resembles you. I know that you want to throw a lamp at your teenager's head sometimes. I know you want to toss your 3-year-old out the window once in a while. I know that some nights, once it's finally quiet, you curl up in bed and cry. I know that sometimes, you don't, even though you wanted to. I know that some days are so hard that all you want is for them to end, and then at bedtime your children hug you and kiss you and tell you how much they love you and want to be like you, and you wish the day could last forever. But it never does. The day always ends, and the next day brings new challenges. Fevers, heartbreak, art projects, new friends, new pets, new fights. And every day you do what you need to do. You take care of things, because that's your job. You go to work, or you fill up the crock pot, or you climb into the garden, or strap the baby to your back and pull out the vacuum cleaner. You drop everything you're doing to moderate an argument over whose turn it is to use a specifically colored marker, or to kiss a boo-boo, or to have a conversation about what kind of lipstick Pinocchio's Mommy wears. I know that you have tickle fights in blanket forts, and that you have the words to at least eight different picture books memorized. I've heard that you dance like a wild woman when it's just you and them. That you have no shame about farting or belching in their presence, that you make up goofy songs about peas and potatoes and cheese. I know that an hour past bedtime, you drop what you're doing and trim the fingernail that your 3-year-old insists is keeping her up. I know that you stop cleaning dishes because your kids insist you need to join their tea party. I know you fed your kids PB&J for four days straight when you had the flu. I know that you eat leftover crusts over the sink while your kids watch "Sponge Bob." I know you didn't expect most of this. I know you didn't anticipate loving somebody so intensely, or loathing your post-baby body so much, or being so tired or being the mom you've turned out to be. You thought you had it figured out. Or you were blind and terrified. You hired the perfect nanny. Or you quit your job and learned to assemble flat-packed baby furniture. You get confused by the conflict of feeling like nothing has changed since you were free and unfettered by children, and looking back on the choices you made as though an impostor was wearing your skin. You're not a perfect mom. No matter how you try, no matter what you do. You will never be a perfect mom. And maybe that haunts you. Or maybe you've made peace with it. Or maybe it was never a problem to begin with. No matter how much you do, there is always more. No matter how little you do, when the day is over, your children are still loved. They still smile at you, believing you have magical powers to fix almost anything. No matter what happened at work, or at school, or in playgroup, you have still done everything in your power to ensure that the next morning will dawn and your children will be as happy, healthy, and wise as could possibly be hoped. There's an old Yiddish saying: "There is one perfect child in the world, and every mother has it." Unfortunately, there are no perfect parents. Your kids will grow up determined to be different than you. They will grow up certain that they won't make their kids take piano lessons, or they'll be more lenient, or more strict, or have more kids, or have fewer, or have none at all. No matter how far from perfect you are, you are better than you think. Someday your kids will be running around like crazy people at synagogue and concuss themselves on a hand rail, and somebody will still walk up to you and tell you what a beautiful family you have. You'll be at the park and your kids will be covered in mud and jam up to the elbows, smearing your car with sugary cement, and a pregnant lady will stop and smile at you wistfully. No matter how many doubts you might have, you never need doubt this one thing: You are not perfect. And that's good. Because really, neither is your child. And that means nobody can care for them the way you can, with the wealth of your understanding and your experience. Nobody knows what your child's squall means, or what their jokes mean, or why they are crying better than you do. And since no mother is perfect, chances are you are caught in a two billion way tie for Best Mom in the World. Congratulations, Best Mom in the World. You're not perfect. You are as good as anybody can get. *Sarah*

Gutted but not surprised about Lee. Still, I have his signed gloves to remember him by (used up to and including the October Stranraer game ... the gloves that beat Morton, Hibs, The Rangers)

Says a lot that Derek was the only player soaking up the cup(s) experience at the last home game. Bet he encouraged Holt and Black to also come back out. A great player and a gent. Delighted he's staying put. Still holding my breath for Robinson. (my own pic, so aye, it's rubbish)

Rumour that Jim Thomson has confirmed (on Alive Radio) that Derek Young has signed.

It's a largely irrational dislike on my part, I know. Agree he vastly improved - but I think it's impossible to split that out from the vast improvement of the whole team. I don't wish him ill by any means, though am irked by his comments about 'the best team' blah blah blah. I am not also sure it is a decent career move for him, time will tell.

On the BBC Website - Nicky Clark: Rangers agree deal to sign Queen of the South striker Cheerio Nicky. Can't say I ever warmed to him, and I think the whole team deserves credit for that goal tally, but also admit I didn't grumble when he kept scoring. I think he's the right sort of chap for The Rangers. Maybe that's why I never warmed to him.

Though I thought Rob Mclean, Billy Dodds and Steven Thompson were a tad disparaging on Sportscene last night about Magic getting the award. They seemed to think anyone but ... ... I'll put that down to them not being aware of anything out with the SPL. Their loss. And congrats to Nicky Clark on his award. Though I'm fairly non-plussed about his departure, the lad done good time and time again. Well deserved. Rumours of Lee leaving are devastating, though not unexpected. Fair enough for him to try and break through into the "big boys", but I so wished he'd gone for Queens legend status (a la Mr Ball). It would have meant first goalkeeper every week, plus a steady income for decades (!). Still, more money (even as a second) must be more than tempting.

Got rid of a far too pushy bloke last night by referring to his The Rangers top as a valid reason why we were never meant to be. It even outweighed him owning the pub. He took it well enough. Even let us have a lock in. Think he was embarrassed he couldn't tell me their last score ...

Hello to Roker Rover. Grand to have met you and the lads last night. You're all a credit to your club. Hope your hangovers aren't as bad as mine!