THE rallying fraternity always has been a rough and ready breed. If you don’t spectate, out in all weathers (which in the UK usually means rain), then you are getting down and dirty preparing or fixing cars. And in either case, once you’ve done all of that, there is always the apres-rally activities to sample.

It therefore takes a lot to shock the general rallying fan. This week however, to use a Jeremy Clarkson-ism, came the bombshell that former Scottish rally champion Jock Armstrong had been fined £1000 and his competition licence revoked for six months by the Motor Sports Council National Court because a photograph of Jock was circulated on social media.

His offence? Baring his backside to a friend during a rally, while Jock was marshalling, where cars were running while at non-competitive speeds, on a section, owned by the MoD, where there were no public or spectators. And, the person ‘mooned’ didn’t complain, and, neither were they treated for posttraumatic stress disorder.

So why was Armstrong penalised to such an extent?

It couldn’t possibly be anything to do with the Fatal Accident Inquiry currently ongoing in Edinburgh could it?

Of course not. That is entirely coincidental and unrelated.

Despite the result against Slovakia the other night it doesn’t change my thinking about that abomination of a pink kit Scotland were forced to wear, all because our traditional blue kit has been deemed to be too white.

Whatever Adidas paid the SFA in terms of their sponsorship agreement, it could never be sufficient to justify that change kit. Scotland play in blue and should always be kitted out accordingly at Hampden - a minor detail evidently not appreciated by an SFA bod.

A few weeks ago, after an item in the Sports Diary, I ended up having a bit of a Twitter spat with some members of the Tartan Army after they’d celebrated ‘Faddy Day,’ 24 hours hijacked to celebrate James McFadden’s goal against France a decade ago.

It was a wonder goal, but my point was it counted for little.

In the piece I wrote; “Give me peace - or give me an own goal, a dodgy offside or a penalty, blatantly won by cheating, any kind of goal that would take us to a major finals tournament.”

On Thursday night, as chance would have it, Martin Skrtel provided just such a winner for the Scots. I just can’t wait until 2027 and ‘Skrtel Day’...

AND finally, at Hampden the other night I couldn’t help but notice, in amongst the kilts, desert boots and the odd Glengarry one wee fella (as in stature, rather than age), wearing a rosette, tartan-ribboned and emblazoned with ‘Scotland.’

I hadn’t seen one in yonks and actually wondered whether they could still be purchased, or, if this was some kind of memento that really should be in the Hampden football museum.

It did however remind me of the one I was given to wear watching the national team for the first time. Somewhere there is a photograph of me sporting it - or more accurately, peeping out from behind it.