Directors of comedy films who make a one-joke movie are almost invariably doomed to failure because of the virtual impossibility of sustaining the required level of excellence long enough to hold an audience. They have much in common with Jim McLean at Dundee United. The slide into mediocrity which has taken United to its present ignominy may be traced directly to the period around a dozen years ago when Scotland in particular stopped producing outstanding players in bulk and football in general began to move towards today’s commercialised, market-driven business.

McLean had been a brilliant manager, taking United to unprecedented achievement at home and abroad by finding and nurturing young talents into formidable teams. But he has proved to be a one-trick act, lacking the flexibility to comply with the changes in the game. He never attempted to hide his conservatism, frequently voicing his detestation of recruiting players from other clubs. "Ah hate buyin’ players," he would say. "They don’t know how we dae things here." He was contemptuous of players who arrived at his domain with what he perceived to be pre-formed bad habits. Of course, there were exceptions, such as Eamonn Bannon and Paul Hegarty. But, like Miss Jean Brodie, he got them young and impressionable enough to make them his for life. McLean applied this literally, insisting on contracts which were longer than the average convicted murderer’s sentence and introducing a lucrative insurance scheme which matured when a player was around 35, a powerful inducement to remain with the club.

He was never likely to cope with the onset of freedom of contract and, later, the Bosman ruling. These revolutionary developments, combined with the reduction in the flow of home-produced players, deprived him of the only way he knew to build successful teams that would endure. Not surprisingly, when McLean finally began to bend to the need to buy players, United proved to be pretty hopeless, signing some of the most notorious duds in recent history. It was down to lack of practice. The supporters’ pressure group who call themselves United for Change could not have picked a more appropriate title. What has been required at Tannadice for years now has been to change Jim McLean’s nature, to find a way of making him see the new reality and convince him of the futility of constantly criticising the modern game and yearning for the better days of the past. It is United’s great misfortune that such an objective may not only be impossible, but that, even if reached, it is probably already too late. IF, as the proverb says, there is many a slip ‘twixt cup and lip - a very short trip - it is not hard to imagine the substantial number of pitfalls that will have to be negotiated on the long haul between the initial proposal of an Atlantic League and its realisation. Supporters of the theory, including Celtic (the prime movers) and Rangers (who became committed followers when David Murray was persuaded of its potential for financial growth), met the first formidable obstacle this week, when UEFA disclosed that they are likely to find the scheme as presently outlined unacceptable. The least surprising quote of the season so far came from Mike Lee, UEFA’s director of communications, when he said that the projected league "raises more questions than answers."

From the moment Allan MacDonald, Celtic’s chief executive began promoting the principle of an international league which would embrace a catchment area with populations totalling 59,000,000, questions without satisfactory answers have proliferated. The one that sprang instantly to mind concerned the issue of qualification for the Champions League. If the plan - basically an amalgamation of countries to produce a potential TV audience to rival those of England, France, Germany, Italy and Spain - were to be endorsed by UEFA, they could expect at best to be treated like England and allowed three places in Europe’s premier competition. This would, at a stroke, remove the virtual assurance of European entry currently enjoyed by top clubs such as Celtic, Rangers, Benfica, Sporting, Ajax, PSV, Feyenoord and Anderlecht through domination of their domestic leagues. In the new, more competitive milieu, none would be able to rely on finishing in the top three. The appeal of the basic concept to the Old Firm has, from the beginning, made sense. It has been obvious for long enough that, if they are to compete properly with the cream of the continent, they will have to match them in financial strength. That can only be achieved nowadays through securing the kind of television deal which makes the English Premiership the land of milk and honey.

What seemed mystifying at first was the Old Firm’s apparent willingness to give up a guarantee of European participation to a riskier proposition of earning passage to the continent in a more hazardous environment. The answer to that question is now clear. It is that even admission to the Champions League does not bring anything like the same revenue as a deal with the broadcasting companies which runs to ten figures. Qualifying for the top tournament is imperative for Rangers at the moment only because of the ludicrously low sums they gain from their present TV deals through the SPL. Given access to the level of television and sponsorship income enjoyed by clubs in the heavily-populated countries, Rangers and Celtic would take their chances in the new league. The prospect of UEFA allowing them and their associates that opportunity seems, for the time being at least, rather remote. ©The Scotsman