MAY THE BEST TEAM WIN

By Blair Smith
Contact the author via Chris Johnstone by e-mail at christopher.johnstone@ntlworld.com

My first view of Dublin was from the back of an ambulance, whose flashing blue light cast an eerie glow on the breaking morning. As we hurtled from the ferry to A&E, my attention was split between my patient and the city whose monuments and buildings I had longed to see for many years. The only sight I remember is a billboard with the band Clannad advertising Guinness, then we reached the hospital.

I was a 4th year medical student, and had determinedly ignored the repeated tannoy request for "a doctor on board the ship." Eventually other members of the Glasgow University shinty team, with whom I was travelling, persuaded me to volunteer. They had no more confidence in me as a doctor than they did as a defender on the shinty pitch, but it was half-five in the morning and the tannoy was interrupting their much-needed beauty sleep. A passenger had been found collapsed and unresponsive in the gents, and needed attention. The crew had already arranged for the ambulance to meet us upon docking, and the "doctor" was required to provide immediate treatment. My diagnosis was of alcohol intoxication, secondary to the all-night duty-free bar that the ferry had been able to provide in the middle of the Irish Sea. I drew upon my extensive medical experience, and did nothing until we arrived. Oh, and by the way, the patient was Neil, another member of our shinty team. One of our best, though not at drinking.

On the way through the Fair City, I remembered something form the unsounded depths of my knowledge about alcohol-induced hypoglycaemia. With this in mind, I drew from my supply of digestive biscuits and force-fed my team-mate. It worked! He woke up, and witnessed our arrival in casualty. By the time the two casualty officers had finished their cigars in the middle of the treatment area and wandered over to us, Neil had finished most of the biscuits, and was fully fit to indulge in banter about the Ireland-Scotland rugby match that afternoon. No further treatment was required. The real reason for our trip was an excuse to attend the rugby match, but we obtained our subsidy from the University by arranging a shinty-hurling match with local opposition in the morning. The match began two hours after our arrival, and Neil was fit enough to play a full and useful part in our complete drubbing.

It was great being part of good team. I played shinty because I happened to see an advert in the refectory requesting new players. The team had just been promoted to the national second division, but most of the good Highland players had graduated, leaving a rump that had to be augmented by greens. So, one Wednesday afternoon I was told the rules of shinty (yes, there are some) and handed a caman. Three days later I was facing senior second division opposition in competitive spirit, in Dalmally. Scary! We only lost 9-1, and the fight in the pub after the game was memorable.

The most memorable parts of the game, though, were the bus journeys to and from away matches. These were conducted in full song, each member of the team contributing his own to a repertoire that mixed the bawdy with the arrogant. The outward trip was adrenaline-inspired, while the home trip drew more of its inspiration from the beer cellars of our opponents' local hostelry. "We've got the best team in the land, we've got the best team in the land…", we crowed, and believed it absolutely. A season of heavy defeats did nothing to dispel this conviction, and when we won our first game (a year and a half later, and I actually scored!) this was our crowning glory, rather than our first step out of ignominy.

The spirit of the team flowed through and bound us, but also mediated our arrogance and eventual success. I cannot imagine a dry, songless team remaining together through the objective adversity that we faced, or holding me in it for long enough to forge the memories of which I write.

I noticed the same in a BBC documentary about the amazing Celtic football team of their centenary season, 1987-88, the season that saw the team wrest the Scottish dominance back form Rangers after a long drought and against all odds. The team included many who are now footballing legends, under the management of " Caesar," Billy McNeill. Footage and flashbacks of the manager and his players, such as Paul McStay and Roy Aitken, were shown. Their arrogance and total belief in themselves and their team flowed from the TV screen. There was no doubt, in these archive shots, that they were winning because they had "the best team in land", and that this was because they were in it. Their arrogance ran so high that Billy Stark thought his hairstyle was acceptable. It was even more striking, however, in mature, current interviews that reflection and time had shown them a different perspective. Each interviewee was now diffident, eyes cast down during interviews, all arrogance gone as the re-lived their past in humble recollection. Billy Stark had sensible hair. They described the "privilege" of membership of such a team, recognizing their luck in being there, and implying the contribution of a higher power to the circumstances which had led to the current interview.

Except Frank McAvennie, who was as wide and arrogant as ever.

Perhaps this recognition is important in clinical and academic practice. As doctors, we frequently find ourselves managing or key players in one or several teams. If we're lucky these teams will be successful, and if we're very lucky we may have "the best team in the land". If we do, though, it's easy to over-estimate our own importance in this, and overlook the contribution of our team-mates and the circumstances in which we are playing. We then have difficulty in explaining future defeats, and our eventual consignment to the reserves, or transfer to Airdrie. If, though, we develop our known strengths robustly and corporately, we and our colleagues will be well-placed to face the competitive future, until we are promoted to retirement. The medical equivalent of a footballer's hairstyle may be a bow tie, a flash car, a display of qualifications, or some other extroversion. I am looking out for these, and hope not to be embarrassed by them when I review my own footage.

Other hoolet online articles by Blair Smith can be found at:
hoolet edition 49 - Ethics and Repression in the Bloo Toon
hoolet edition 48 - May The Best Team Win
hoolet edition 47 - Hunting Pink Elephants
hoolet edition 46 - Predictive Texting
hoolet edition 45 - Role Models
hoolet edition 44 - Time To Go Killorglin'
hoolet edition 43 - Salt and Shake
hoolet edition 42 - Stepping up the Pace of Life
hoolet edition 41 - Smoking out the Irish Question
hoolet edition 40 - Not Cricket
hoolet edition 39 - Anniversaries and Predictions
hoolet edition 38 - Is There Life on Mars?
hoolet edition 36 - Onwards and Upwards
hoolet edition 35 - Goal of the Season‘s Greetings
hoolet edition 34 - Chickens and Eggs
hoolet edition 33 - On Shifting Goalposts
hoolet edition 32 - Period Zero
hoolet edition 30 - Annual Appraisal
hoolet edition 29 - Working Towards Scotland's Healthier Children For Us All 2020 and A Framework for Maternity Services in Scotland
hoolet edition 28 - In Memoriam Admiral Byng. A cautionary Tale

hoolet is the magazine of RCGP Scotland. It is supported intellectually, financially and emotionally by RCGP Scotland.

This issue maintained by Robert Hallam.