The battle cry of a playground in Scotland

My primary school playground was equally divisible by two; those who supported Rangers, and those who supported Celtic. It was tribal. A waste bin was probably the marker for the equivalent of a Protestant and Catholic divide.

It might have only been a waste bin, but it was still a divide.

Even at five you could feel the tension in the week leading up to a derby match – the old firm game – because rivalry between the two clubs is as deeply rooted in Scottish culture as Bannockburn, Bonnie Prince Charlie, Robbie Burns, bagpipes and the kilt.

I was an incomer; my parents had just moved to Scotland. I had a decision to make, and it was a very grown-up challenge I faced. And I had to make my decision now and make it quick. This was my first battlefield.

It may have only been a primary school in Renfrewshire, but all football eyes looked towards Glasgow. Which half of the playground am I in? Which team am I going to line up with for the match each playtime?

Supporting an English club wouldn’t satisfy them, not my classmates, my playmates. Worse still, my mother’s a Farquharson. The clan traces its origins to Farquhar, the 4th son of Alexander Ciar, 3rd Shaw of Rothiemurches. This is a Highland clan based at

Invercauld and Braemar. I am of Scottish descent.

There’s Highland blood in my veins.

Come on, make your mind up, son. A few of them are already looking hostile.

For once I’d done my homework and quickly blurted ‘Third Lanark’.

There were looks of disbelief all round and exclamations of ‘Thirds’ followed by expletives that five-year-olds shouldn’t use. Actually, they shouldn’t even know them.

But I knew – and don’t ask me why now because I can’t remember – that Third Lanark (known as The Thirds) lost to Hearts in the 1959 Scottish League Cup Final, so my response didn’t cause offense to either Glasgow team.

And history would be kind to me some months later - almost confirming the wisdom of my choice - when Thirds beat Hibernian 6-1 to reach 100 goals and end the season third in the top-flight table. Again, my answer at the time did not offend any Glasgow team.

‘Why The Thirds? You stupid or something?’ asked one astute Rangers supporter. I shook my head.

‘Do you have people there?’ asked another.

I shook my head again. ‘No.’ I was assertive as a five-year-old with an English accent could be under the circumstances.

Anyway, the truth would have bored them. I’d seen Lanark on a road sign when my father drove the family to Edinburgh to visit relatives and then heard something on the radio or seen a headline in the Glasgow Herald.

So I became, in football parlance, a free agent, able to move from one team to the other and back again. Also, I didn’t charge any match fees, so I was always in demand.

One week I scored for the Catholics, the next for the Protestants. One week I defended for the Catholics, the next week for the Protestants.

It was a first for football because back then, Celtic didn’t sign Protestant players (Rangers) and vice versa.

And throughout my formative years in Scotland, I held a torch for Third Lanark. Sadly, though, they went out of business in 1967.

But I will always be thankful to that club for helping me through.