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I am going to be careful what I say this week regarding the football in case I tempt fate.
I am writing this on a sunny Tuesday morning in Partick, so clearly I don’t yet know whether Scotland have progressed to the next round of the Euros or have fallen agonisingly short. All I do know is Glasgow remains in the grip of blind optimism. The England centre halves left the field on Friday looking like they had done ten rounds with Mike Tyson, and Clive Tyldesley and Ally McCoist have become the most popular commentary duo since Hugh Dan MacLennan and Gary Innes.
I also know there would have been a few sore heads over the weekend among those who watched the England game in the Park Bar on Friday night – as well as possibly a few lost voices. Social distancing between tables was strictly maintained by the staff, but the atmosphere was far from compromised as we all went through a nerve shattering 90 minutes together watching Steve Clarke and the lads put in a brilliant performance to keep our Euro hopes alive.
It was decided that a group of us would don the kilt for the occasion. It is not every day, after all, that you get to see Scotland play the Auld Enemy in a major tournament.
I was a vociferous advocate of this plan until about 10 minutes before I left the flat and I actually attempted to put the kilt on. It turns out lockdown has been better to me than I thought and I have a few extra pounds around the waistline to show for it!
After a wrestling match to make Hercules the Bear and Andy Robin proud, I eventually squeezed in, threw on my sporran and my Scotland top, and away I went like your typical Tartan Army “footsoldier”.
It was just as well I discovered my kilt no longer fits because I am off to a wedding in Argyll this coming weekend and I would have thrown the kilt in the back of the car and not thought anything of it until I had faced this almighty struggle in the morning of the wedding. Possibly after a full hotel cooked breakfast! I think my suit will have to suffice for this particular engagement.
Anyway, in next week’s article I will either be reviewing an historic night for Scottish football; or I will be reviewing Kinnaris Quintet, Breabach, and Tide Lines at the fanzone on Thursday and making absolutely no mention of the football whatsoever!
If Scotland are out by Thursday, we might have a bit of work to do getting the crowd enthused. If we are in the next round, however, we might have to play an hour’s worth of Yes Sir, I Can Boogie! That wouldn’t normally be my preference, but I think I would settle it just this once. As long as I don’t have to wear my kilt!