Osasu Obayiuwana surveys some of the pitfalls that lie in wait for African players hoping to pursue careers in Europe
Top quality African players are appearing in Europe in increasing numbers but amongst all the success stories, like George Weah and Finidi George, are just as many tales of hardship, of players whose naïvete on financial issues has been taken advantage of by rapacious clubs or business managers.
Mick Slatter looks back at one of Liberia's greatest ever role models
George Oppong Weah is a disarmingly nice guy. He may have bagged the hat-trick of African, European and World Footballer of The Year, yet remains humble. He still has a common touch, passes on much of his sizable earnings and still allows journalists to get closer to him than most Serie A sweepers.
Shotts Bon Accord of the Scottish Juniors are the latest club to be embroiled in legal intrigue. Graham McColl takes up their case
On paper, Scottish Junior club Shotts Bon Accord should be one of the contenders for this season’s Junior Cup. But that’s where their chances of winning the Juniors’ premier tournament will remain – on paper. A plot that looks as though John Le Carré and the Monty Python team have put their heads together has led to the club being taken out of service for the 1995-96 season.
Doug Stenhouse explains why Berwick Rangers, rescued from the brink of oblivion, have more reason than most to be thankful to their supporters' club
You might know Berwick Rangers as the only English team in the Scottish League. You might even know that through a quirk of history, the town of Berwick was left out of the peace treaty at the end of the Crimean War, so Berwick was technically at war with Russia for over 100 years. You probably do not know that Shielfield Park, Berwick Rangers’ ground is owned by their supporters, a unique situation brought about by a tale so bizarre even the script writers of Baywatch would have found it too far-fetched.
Archie MacGregor explains why Edinburgh clubs have little need of trophy cabinets
On the top of a hill in the centre of Scotland’s capital rests a sorry-looking, unfinished 19th Century monument to the dead of the Napoleonic Wars. Intended to be a replica of the Parthenon in Athens, it has for many years now been popularly referred to as ‘Edinburgh’s disgrace’. As a symbol of inflated grandeur, unfulfilled potential and downright farce it has few rivals throughout these isles, yet, oddly enough, two of the closest contenders lie within its immediate environs. They are called Hearts and Hibs.