It is never that difficult to distinguish between a Scotsman with a grievance and a ray of sunshine. This platitude is supported by two reports today. Andy Murray, the rising tennis star, has been performing prodigies in Cincinnati. A Texan would have drawled a laconic boast. An Englishman may have made a self-deprecating apology. But Murray just whinged. His legs were tired. It was too hot. Meanwhile, our own Alan Hamilton has published his whinge on the internet. He calls it McRant. In his video blog Hamilton lists his grumbles about his native land: the so-called Scottish Parliament is a glorified county council; the two top football clubs are not Scottish — one represents Belfast, the other Dublin. It is possible that he is pulling somebody’s leg, though the responses suggest that not everybody sees the joke.
The joke itself is not new: from Dr Johnson admitting that much may be made of a Scotchman, if he be caught young, to modern observations that the British ruling class seems to be entirely tartan. When the Anglo-Saxons invaded Britain, the obtuse Angles turned up the Thames, but the acute and angry Angles sailed on to turn left up the Forth. Such national stereotypes are only half-true. Some Englishmen have no sense of humour. There are disorganised Germans, anti-intellectual French and (possibly) innumerate Chinese. So there are cheerful as well as whingeing Scots. David Hume, Boswell and the Prime Minister look on the sunny side of life. John Knox, Hugh McDiarmid, John Reid and Gordon Brown may not. All one can do is ponder the oh-so-cheery ScoScots proverb: “Be happy while you’re living, for you’re a long time dead.”