'I ran for dear life fearing a kicking'.(Sport)

Byline: JOHN HILLCOAT

IT'S a shame Old Firm players can't go for a night on the town these days without some bam trying to banjo them.

Last Monday morning's barney outside Bamboo nightclub in Glasgow saw a couple of drunken panda bears get stuck into Celtic stars Darren O'Dea, Aiden McGeady and Scott Brown just hours after their first SPL win of the season against St Mirren.

By all accounts the trio were enjoying their night in the trendy gaff until jealousy got the better of a few wannabe yobs and tempers flared.

The scrap ended up with the cops getting involved and O'Dea being handcuffed then tossed in the cells for a few hours.

Brown, who bore the brunt of the attack, woke up on Monday morning with a hangover and a dome not even the Elephant Man would cross the doorway with.

Bamboo has had its share of melees over the past few months and is fast becoming known as the place where footballers hang out.

That reputation was secured back in April when McGeady hit the headlines after going a few rounds with some angry Rangers fans and the road had to be blocked off due to the a mount of handbags and Hai Karate talc left lying around.

I feel sorry for the high-profile stars who can't go for a night out without having to always be on their toes for folk who either want to cash in with a kiss-and-tell story or bash their heads in.

It must be murder for Old Firm players like Brown, McGeady, Barry Ferguson and Allan McGregor when they fancy a few drinks.

I remember walking down Sauchiehall Street in Glasgow a few years back and big Lorenzo Amoruso, minding his own business, was being called every orange b*****d under the sun by a group of guys.

The poor fella probably didn't even know what they were on about as he just ignored them and walked on.

But I bet he didn't go near another sunbed after that due to his bright orange complexion.

Don't get me wrong, there have been high-profile players who have milked the fact they play for the Old Firm and adopted the "do you know who I am?" attitude.

These guys bring negative attention upon themselves with their arrogance and it is only natural some loose cannon would want to smash their lights in for being so cocky.

But these guys are small time compared to some of the true legends who have played for the Old Firm. I can't imagine what it must be like for someone such as Ally McCoist walking through Braehead shopping centre with his kids.

The entourage following him around would make even Santa Claus feel like a nobody.

And what about Charlie Nicholas? He must have to wear a mask every time he leaves the house.

I can remember feeling star-struck when the bold Charlie signed for Clyde in the mid-90s as I always looked up to him as an A-list celebrity.

On our Christmas night out myself and the other "we love Charlie" team-mates fought with each other to stand next to him at the bar and appear as if we were his mate.

It was like entering one of those old Western bars with Charlie that night as the pub went silent and tumbleweed blew across the room while everyone stopped mid-drink in disbelief at who had just walked in.

The stampede followed shortly and I ended up with a broken toe due to autograph hunters knocking me out of the road just to see their idol.

But I'm a lover not a fighter and can honestly say I have never been involved in any street brawl. Coming from Paisley, that's a miracle. But there was one time when I ran formy life fearing an absolute doing.

The early 90s saw Dunfermline casuals take umbrage at any "Weegie" who stayed in their town.

And it was common knowledge among the football-mad gang that some wee reserve goalie from the west was polluting their streets.

I shook with terror every time I entered the town's Kingsgate shopping centre and would hide behind pillars in the hope the neds wouldn't string me up.

The cat and mouse game went on for months but I played right into their trap after a Christmas night out.

Fancy dress was the theme and me and big Ian Westwater went as Batman and Robin.

The night passed without too many Jokers on the scene but that quickly changed as I stood at the food van waiting for my chips and cheese.

I soon got off my mark after seeing the gang of Weegie haters and after being cornered I looked in vain for the Caped Crusader to bail me out.

But it was to no avail so I curled into a ball and took their powder-puff kicks and punches which felt like I was being attacked by a swarm of midges.

Thankfully I was left sporting only a grazed forehead and a couple of midge bites.

I vowed to return east some time soon with a squad from Paisley to get my revenge. You have been warned.

'I ran for dear life fearing a kicking'.(Sport)

Byline: JOHN HILLCOAT

IT'S a shame Old Firm players can't go for a night on the town these days without some bam trying to banjo them.

Last Monday morning's barney outside Bamboo nightclub in Glasgow saw a couple of drunken panda bears get stuck into Celtic stars Darren O'Dea, Aiden McGeady and Scott Brown just hours after their first SPL win of the season against St Mirren.

By all accounts the trio were enjoying their night in the trendy gaff until jealousy got the better of a few wannabe yobs and tempers flared.

The scrap ended up with the cops getting involved and O'Dea being handcuffed then tossed in the cells for a few hours.

Brown, who bore the brunt of the attack, woke up on Monday morning with a hangover and a dome not even the Elephant Man would cross the doorway with.

Bamboo has had its share of melees over the past few months and is fast becoming known as the place where footballers hang out.

That reputation was secured back in April when McGeady hit the headlines after going a few rounds with some angry Rangers fans and the road had to be blocked off due to the a mount of handbags and Hai Karate talc left lying around.

I feel sorry for the high-profile stars who can't go for a night out without having to always be on their toes for folk who either want to cash in with a kiss-and-tell story or bash their heads in.

It must be murder for Old Firm players like Brown, McGeady, Barry Ferguson and Allan McGregor when they fancy a few drinks.

I remember walking down Sauchiehall Street in Glasgow a few years back and big Lorenzo Amoruso, minding his own business, was being called every orange b*****d under the sun by a group of guys.

The poor fella probably didn't even know what they were on about as he just ignored them and walked on.

But I bet he didn't go near another sunbed after that due to his bright orange complexion.

Don't get me wrong, there have been high-profile players who have milked the fact they play for the Old Firm and adopted the "do you know who I am?" attitude.

These guys bring negative attention upon themselves with their arrogance and it is only natural some loose cannon would want to smash their lights in for being so cocky.

But these guys are small time compared to some of the true legends who have played for the Old Firm. I can't imagine what it must be like for someone such as Ally McCoist walking through Braehead shopping centre with his kids.

The entourage following him around would make even Santa Claus feel like a nobody.

And what about Charlie Nicholas? He must have to wear a mask every time he leaves the house.

I can remember feeling star-struck when the bold Charlie signed for Clyde in the mid-90s as I always looked up to him as an A-list celebrity.

On our Christmas night out myself and the other "we love Charlie" team-mates fought with each other to stand next to him at the bar and appear as if we were his mate.

It was like entering one of those old Western bars with Charlie that night as the pub went silent and tumbleweed blew across the room while everyone stopped mid-drink in disbelief at who had just walked in.

The stampede followed shortly and I ended up with a broken toe due to autograph hunters knocking me out of the road just to see their idol.

But I'm a lover not a fighter and can honestly say I have never been involved in any street brawl. Coming from Paisley, that's a miracle. But there was one time when I ran formy life fearing an absolute doing.

The early 90s saw Dunfermline casuals take umbrage at any "Weegie" who stayed in their town.

And it was common knowledge among the football-mad gang that some wee reserve goalie from the west was polluting their streets.

I shook with terror every time I entered the town's Kingsgate shopping centre and would hide behind pillars in the hope the neds wouldn't string me up.

The cat and mouse game went on for months but I played right into their trap after a Christmas night out.

Fancy dress was the theme and me and big Ian Westwater went as Batman and Robin.

The night passed without too many Jokers on the scene but that quickly changed as I stood at the food van waiting for my chips and cheese.

I soon got off my mark after seeing the gang of Weegie haters and after being cornered I looked in vain for the Caped Crusader to bail me out.

But it was to no avail so I curled into a ball and took their powder-puff kicks and punches which felt like I was being attacked by a swarm of midges.

Thankfully I was left sporting only a grazed forehead and a couple of midge bites.

I vowed to return east some time soon with a squad from Paisley to get my revenge. You have been warned.