Scottish football writers unite to give chapter and verse on the great and good No fewer than 71 fellow sports journalists responded to Brian's request to contribute a chapter to a book which recounts a chronicle of captivating insights into the business of delivering stories about the great and good, as well as the bad and bad-tempered - check the title again - of the football world. The veteran Brian Cooney relates the tale, from 1982, of a lunch with Sir Alf Ramsey that elided into an afternoon's drinking which, when Cooney protested that he would have to make a train back to his office to meet his deadline, prompted England's World Cup winning manager to insist on driving to the station, a crazed journey that came within literal inches of death for all concerned at 80mph. The World Cup theme turns up elsewhere, in unlikely circumstances, such as when Tom Duthie of the Evening Telegraph meets the Dundee manager, Ivano Bonetti, in a city supermarket on a Sunday afternoon and casually asks who might be brought in to replace a Dens Park striker who had just sustained a long-term injury. Equally insouciantly, Bonetti reveals that Diego Maradona's Argentina strike partner, Claudio Caniggia has agreed to move to Tayside - although the drama of the moment is stolen by the manager's future wife Erica - a former model and an Italian TV presenter - and her horrified discovery that macaroni comes in tins. The oldest contributor is Belfast's indestructible Malcolm Brodie - The Daily Telegraph's former Northern Ireland football correspondent, now aged 85 - who recollects the hijacking of a telex machine at Scotland's World Cup base in Alta Gracia, Argentina, to break the story of Willie Johnston's expulsion from the camp for drug use. At the other end of the spectrum from such drama is Michael Grant, now of the Herald, being told to break off from covering Scotland at Euro '96 and head to Old Trafford to witness Alex Ferguson (this was in his pre-knighthood days) being presented with his annual gift of a box of fish from old friends in Aberdeen, a deeply unpromising opportunity that was parlayed into a revealing hour-long torrent of opinion from the greatest ever Scottish manager. He also features in a joust with the Aberdonian journo, Frank Gilfeather, who was the target for hairdryer treatment after reporting a rant by the manager after a European tie in Romania. When the pair subsequently squared up in the Pittodrie press room, Gilfeather suggested that the discussion should be continued outside - and, suddenly remembering that the journo was a former Scottish amateur boxing champion, Fergie found the grace to apologise. Throughout many of the anecdotes there is to be found, as Marjoribanks suggests in his preface, an "end of empire" wistfulness about the days when newspapers had money to burn and there was a swashbuckling swagger and romance about the business that has become a victim of loss of nerve by many managements who have never been able to come to terms with the greater availability of online information. But newspapers - along with broadcasting organisations of the substance of the BBC - remain the most coherent and organised newsgathering vehicles, although in what form and number they will exist in future remains the great conundrum. Be that as it may, if you relish an absorbing glimpse behind the scenes as the inky trade meshes with the people's game, this book does the trick - it should fill a good many Christmas stockings and all, as I say, for a tremendous cause. Sands (Stillbirth and Neonatal Death Charity) provides support to anyone affected by the loss of the 17 babies who, on average, are stillborn or die soon after birth every day in the UK. All the pieces in Henrik, Hairdryers and the Hand of God (Backpage Press, £8.99) were contributed free and all proceeds from the book will go to Sands.