It’s great to see the football back on telly. The best part is it’s on normal telly and you don’t need a special box or to pay a subscription because then I just wouldn’t bother. That’s a bit of a shame because I watched almost every match in the Euros and World Cup since Scotland humbled Brazil in 1974, never lost a game in the tournament, and still got sent home to think again. 1978 was good as well. Mario Kempes sticks in the mind. Argentina weren’t yet the enemies.
England always are. It always surprises the English that we Scots support any team but them and every team against them. Imagine England won the Euros. It’s a possibility. They played brilliantly against Germany in a recent friendly. But then the put Vardy and Kane wide and brought Rooney through the centre. Keep with that formation Hodgson and us Scots will back you all the way.
I thought I was late for the opening game, France who I backed to win the tournament, mostly because I couldn’t think of anyone else and don’t really care. In the first half of the game against Romania, the French team must have wished they could play Scotland every week. I don’t watch these pointless friendlies, especially if Scotland are playing because we are so boring and lack technical ability. In other words we’re shite. Here France the favourites and Romania offered up as a gift in the opening game of the tournament, we had the meat and bones, but it was all scrag ends and tasteless fare. The French authorities despite strikes (vive le strikers –yes, I also make up French words when I get bored by sideways passing) and terrorist threats have did a wonderful job of rounding up all the ugly women in Paris and excluding them from the Stade de Paris. They must have used gauges because all the women on show had cheekbones so sharp and high it left me feeling dizzy. Pre-match entertainment at football used to be a guy in a rain-mac carrying a tray shouting ‘Get your Mac-a-rooooon bars and Spear-ment-chewing-gum’. Now it’s a festival of advertising. Scrub it. Let’s get back to basics. ‘Get your Mac-a-roooon and Spear-ment-chewing-gum.
The second half wasn’t too bad. The French took off Pogba, which was a surprise to the commentators, but not to me. I could hear my da’s voice in my ear, ‘fanny dancer’. They should have taken off Evra. Fanny. Full stop. The penalty he gave away was reminiscent of Effy Ambrose, an international football player and African Cup winner, currently plying his trade at Celtic. Hopefully, I pray Effy won’t be there much longer. We’ll put him on the ferry to Marseille. The winning goal was a thing of beauty from a West Ham player, Payet. Who would believe that? West Ham provides the best player in a French shirt. But the Bayern Munich winger looks like a winner. Then Martial is played wide, what’s that about? Next up Albania v Switzerland. Then England v Russia. You don’t need to ask who I want to win. Lose and it’s a gulag for Roy Hodgson. But I’ve a sneaking suspicion England can do it. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I’m going to live in Siberia.