THE diarist bumped into a cinema-loving colleague the other day. “Have you seen Captain Correlli’s Mandolin?” he asked. “Aye, I think I saw it up against the sideboard,” came the informed response. All this chatter of things being committed to celluloid got us thinking. In the wake of Steven Gerrard’s “no one likes us, we really care” bleatings recently, presumably we can look forward to a hastily-cobbled together re-hash of the 1984 film, Against All Odds.

This heart-warming tale, that will have you cooing as if you’ve just watched a cute puppy gently pawing the nose of a baby seal, will depict how the mighty Glasgow Rangers managed to flourish despite overwhelming global refereeing adversity and rampant conspiracy.

In a completely unrelated topic of conversation, meanwhile, the diarist was intrigued by West Bromwich Albion’s new mascot. Having agreed a lucrative deal with household appliance company, Ideal Boilers, the Baggies are now marching out at The Hawthorns to be welcomed by the cheery, cuddly, cornball antics of a man dressed up as, well, a boiler. Nothing strikes fear into visiting fans like a unified chant from the home terraces about pressure gauges and safety valves eh?

Which brings as nicely back to the Gers. Inspired by West Brom’s Boiler Man, and drawing on the film, Fatal Attraction, Stevie G and company’s sense of unhinged paranoia has led to a new mascot being paraded on the Ibrox turf. That’s right, it’s Broxi the Bunny Boiler …

FITBA players used to give 100 per cent. But then Kevin Keegan upped the ante. “My commitment is 110 per cent and you can’t give more than that,” he declared. Asked if Celtic fans were right to question the club’s handling of the John McGinn transfer saga, brassed off Brendan Rodgers said: “150 per cent.” He’s got some way to catch Wor’ Kev. When he took the England job in 1999, Keegan roared that, “I’ll be giving 1000 per cent.” Can you give more than that?

THE diarist was encouraged to see coverage of pub pastime, pool, on the BBC the other weekend. The IPA European Open from Coventry was akin to watching closed circuit tele from the local. In the grand traditions of Fred Trueman’s earthy, ruddy-faced peculiarity, The Indoor League, we now look forward to arm wrestling, shove ha’ penny and bar skittles being available on the red button …

WELL, that beats a hum-drum pose with the club shirt. Villarreal took the parading of a signing to new lengths when a magician coaxed and cajoled a glass box of billowing dry ice before Santo Cazorla appeared out of thin air to great gasps of wonderment. Meanwhile, some reckon the Celtic board have hired illusionist, David Copperfield, to deal with the club’s transfer budget. It has apparently disappeared, after all.

TWO, four, six, eight, who do we appreciate? For the first time in the NFL, there will be male cheerleaders showing off their, ahem, school spirit. The LA Rams and the New Orleans Saints are the first teams to diversify with three men joining the ranks of pom pom pushers, baton-twirlers and gyrating go-goers. Cheering as part of the Rams will be the delightfully named Napoleon Jinnies, which sounds like a slang term for something you would suffer from when your hot pants are too tight. Here in the Scottish media, meanwhile, unashamed male cheerleading is not new. They’ve been doing it with Celtic and Rangers for years.

MORE money than sense? Southport golfer Tommy Fleetwood has made a few bob during his rise into the upper echelons of world golf. So much so, he didn’t notice £120,000 had been paid to someone else. Fleetwood’s winnings from last month’s Open oddly went into the account of a Mr Thomas Fleetwood, a club professional in Florida who did try to qualify for the European Senior Tour back in the day. “I honestly didn’t know anything about it,” said Fleetwood as he jangled some loose change in his pocket. “I wouldn’t even know if I’d been paid or not because I don’t really look.” Check your mini-statements, Tommy.