The rumour has been floated that Alan Smith is a genuine deity. Certainly, Smudger is the patron saint of consistency in every single position on the pitch from defensive goal saver to hat-trick hero at centre forward. Trotter has a shrine dedicated to him, and no wonder. How Real have managed to hold on to the talkative West Lothian raconteur we will never know. Certainly its difficult to get him and Craigy Fraser to pipe down all the time and he knows he has a captive audience of quiet unassuming chaps in the dressing room to lend their ears to his naturally witty anectdotes. Or perhaps it's because we hold his dark secret. He doesn't think we know about the dungeon. The whips. The bodies.