Allow me to weave you the colourful yet somewhat drab narrative of Zander Hutton, undoubtedly a name that sparks rapturous applause or guttural boos, depending on which side of Glasgow's footballing divide you find yourself nuzzled into. The sprightly lad was given life on the 31st July 2006, making him a stripling of 18 years, if my basic arithmetic skills haven't failed me yet again.
Born and bred on Scottish soil with a hearty dose of tartan running through his veins, Zander chose to commit his undeniable footballing talents to the position of a defender. Not for him the gritty battle of midfield or the glamour of striking – no, our Zander took the path less travelled, choosing to devote his life to shutting down attacks before they even get started, primarily occupying the niche role of a right back. A responsibility many would balk at, but not our Zander.
And where has this youthful right back found himself playing? Alas, he hasn't graced the hallowed turf of Celtic Park in the green and white hoops, bringing us into fits of delight with lung bursting runs and last ditch tackles. No, he's gone down a road slightly less favourable to our persuasion. Hutton now plies his trade for Rangers, donning the number 63 shirt and no doubt living out his boyhood dreams in the process. I hope he's happy there, really, I do. But let's remember the countless talents wasted, the careers claimed by the nefarious burden of that blue jersey.
