SCOTLAND ON SUNDAY REPORTS
IAN MORRISON
THE name of Dave "Cement Head" Semenko will probably mean nothing to most readers, but for years he was one of the most influential sportsmen in North America. He was Wayne Gretzky's unofficial on-ice bodyguard. Mess with the most skilful man who ever chased a puck and you invited "Cement Head" into your life. What's more, he usually entered it with great pace and a distinct lack of ceremony.

It was a variation of the old good cop/bad cop routine which has now infiltrated the SRU. President of the Union, Andy Irvine, has been the voice of reason for the last year, helping to heal the damaging wounds inflicted during a bloody civil war. The news that he is to stand for the post again has been widely welcomed, and rightly so because Irvine's unique selling point is the fact that no-one questions his motives. However, the president's diplomatic skills are increasingly at a premium, given the heavy-handed manner of some of his colleagues.

Despite constant talk from Irvine about the importance of "unity", ten days after threatening to make 30-plus players redundant, chief executive Gordon McKie has yet to meet with Jim Hay, who heads up the Scottish Professional Players' Association. Arguably, Hay should have been told about the cuts before the media, but despite repeated requests the best the Union has done is sit him down with their head of human resources, Jackie Anderson.

This alone seems churlish behaviour, but worse was to follow. When 100-odd professional players met to discuss the news last Wednesday, they did so in the lounge of the Murrayfield ice rink, denied a room inside the stadium on the spurious grounds that there was not one available at short notice.

When asked about this, Union spokesperson Dee McIntosh said the Union "welcomes the concept of its contracted players having representation". However much they welcome the "concept", Murrayfield seems totally set against the reality of the SPRA, which they have ignored or sidelined as best they can, even ordering employees to snub the inaugural dinner a fortnight ago.

At times of uncertainty, it is incumbent on the Union to keep the players' union fully briefed instead of ignoring them in the hope that they go away. They won't, at least not while Scotland still boasts professional rugby.

Adding to the slightly surreal air at Murrayfield is the news that Gordon Fraser has been banned from the premises, like some sort of lager-fuelled yob. The well-respected photographer was recently voted Scottish Sports Photographer of the Year, a feat he managed with a portfolio consisting entirely of rugby snaps. Whoever is behind the ban, it is astonishing that someone offering the oxygen of publicity should be frogmarched out of the national stadium rather than greeted like a long-lost brother. Goodness only knows what legal implications accompany this bizarre decision.

Fraser only found out he was persona non grata when he attempted to take snaps of Chris Paterson at Murrayfield last Thursday. The photographer is understood to be in dispute with the Union on an issue which may, or may not, have contributed to him losing his SRU post last Tuesday. But to ban him from Murrayfield is extraordinary, especially when he was shooting Paterson for the biggest-selling rugby magazine on the planet, an invaluable source of publicity for sponsors and an important means by which news of Scottish rugby reaches the outside world.

Just when they need to focus their energies on fighting the fires that threaten to engulf them, the Union's less than diplomatic approach to its employees has been landing them in hot water. Former full-time referee Andy Ireland is understood to have initiated legal proceedings against the Union, and he is just one of several former Union employees who have consulted m'learned friends over the Union's robust employment practices.

And it's not just personnel issues which are proving legally problematic. There may be another court appearance, depending upon the Union's response to a recent letter from Gala RFC. The SRU agreed to pay and play at Netherdale for 20 years and, it has almost been forgotten, also agreed to add a high performance training pitch to the facilities as part of the deal. This part of the bargain has yet to be completed. McKie admitted that the Union was looking to wriggle out of the contract, but lawyers who worked on the original deal insist the contract is binding.

Meanwhile, Gala have written to the Union asking to know their future plans. The committee at Netherdale have an obligation to do the best for their members, no matter how parlous the Union's finances. In any case, in the current climate of mutual mistrust between senior clubs and the governing body, they will be unwilling to cut the Union much slack.

All this only adds to the sense of unease at Murrayfield. One employee, who preferred anonymity, said last week that the atmosphere at the Roseburn HQ was "a nightmare", and it is clear that while difficult decisions have to be made, the manner in which his orders are executed is doing McKie no favours.

The Union boss has a thankless task sorting out a mess left by others and his reforms undoubtedly have the broad backing of the Scottish rugby public. If he uses a little more Gretzky and a little less Cement Head as he goes about his business, he might also receive the backing of his own employees.

This article was posted on 7-May-2006, 07:40 by Hugh Barrow.