WITH all this blether about Scottish independence - yea, nay or still dinnae ken - the impact on sport remains unknown if the 'yes' vote prevails in six days' time.

One consequence could be that in future Olympic Games Scotland would be represented as a separate nation rather than part of Team GB, though a majority vote in favour of independence will mean that that prospect will have to wait until 2020. It will not be sanctioned in time for the Olympics in Rio in just under two years from now.

In relation to football, there might well be a barrier already in place. There have not been too many moves from north of Hadrian's Wall to the more moneyed climes of the English leagues.

In the recent transfer window madness I can only recall the move of Dundee United left-back Andrew Robertson to Hull City, or the move several years ago that brought Steven Naismith to Everton.

It would seem an unofficial embargo or restriction of trade was already in place.

To me that has been a great loss.

Since its inception from the ashes of an Everton exit from Anfield, my club Liverpool have had a long and successful association with Scotland.

Indeed, early pioneering chairman John McGregor employed so many of his countrymen that the Reds were known as Mac-Liverpool.

Just look at the heritage Scotland has helped to forge at Anfield. Former players include Matt Busby - yes United fans, your esteemed manager wore the beloved red of Liverpool.

Then there was Bill Shankly. While he never played for Liverpool, he initiated a quite stunning renaissance from what he even described the "biggest toilet" on Merseyside into a dynamic dynasty that ruled England and Europe.

His first team featured Scots such as Ronnie Yeats, Willie Stephenson and Ian St John, while later incarnations included Bobby Graham and Peter Cormack, a gifted midfielder who never got the credit he deserved.

When Bob Paisley succeeded Shankly, the Scottish connection gloriously swelled supremacy. There was the outstanding trio of Alan Hansen, Graeme Souness and Kenny Dalglish, the latter to also excel as player-manager.

But footballing heroes from north of the border do not stop at my own club.

The aforementioned Busby had the impish Denis Law, king of the penalty-box, in his ranks at Old Trafford, while no-one could forget the barrel-chested Dave Mackay, who transferred his iron defiance from Hearts to the great double-winning Tottenham Hotspur side.

Not all Scots flourished in England.

Jim Baxter, the midfield genius who terrorised World Cup winners England in their first Wembley outing after lifting the Jules Rimet trophy, never scaled such heights in the Sunderland shirt. He did though as Rangers' midfield schemer.

Across Glasgow, there was the irrepressible and mercurial wing maestro that was Jimmy Johnstone. Hard as nails, but blessed with a balletic body-swerve, jinkin' Jimmy was a jack in the box of tricks.

But Scots sportsmen to admire are not solely confined to boots and fitba'.

Walter McGowan, that great worldflyweight champion from Lanarkshire was another who shook the world and then in gruelling title contests that lasted a full 15 rounds. He was a tenacious scrapper with ample ringcraft in his frame.

Another to capture the imagination and global gain was Jim Clark.

The farmer from the Borders area around Berwick, Clark ruled the world as one of the most naturally skilled drivers in Formula 1. He lifted the drivers' championship twice - in 1963 and 1965.

On the athletics track, there were the charismatic figures of Allan Wells, sprint speedster of Olympic and European 100 metres renown, and Ian Stewart, a 5,000 metres specialist, who with his vest always flailing out of his shorts evoked a swaggering confidence and toughness of the track.

There will be countless other Scots who have stirred sporting memories. The above-mentioned are some of my heroes.

Hopefully - independent or not - they will continue to do so. For all sport would be a much poorer and far less competitive arena if there were no Scots to take on the rest of the sporting world.