"if you want my body and you think i'm sexy..."

We were wondering around the streets of Edinburgh looking for a pub to watch the Scotland- France, Euro qualifier. It was cold and blustery and even the residents were scampering about but we were determined to enjoy some football, we were after all in Scotland on this important day. With the first half all but over we still had not managed to find a pub that was showing the game and we had been into a few by now - what was this lack of faith all about? Why wasn’t anybody ‘bloody’ interested?

Eventually we found a pub that was showing some football but it was the England game, they were however kind enough to tell us why and where to go to see what was left of the game,” It’s on pay per view; you should try down the road at the Irish pub they’ll be showing it.”

So back into the cold and down the road but at least we were heading in the right direction and five minutes later we were inside a crowded pub, tuned into the game, 60 minutes had passed but it was nil all, “You missed nothing,” someone said.

Then the moment that everybody had been waiting for arrived, did we have anything to do with it, well it matters little now, because from a corner in the French half, the ball breaks to the number 8 who slots it home, Scotland 1 France nil. Silence for a ‘wee’ split, second of disbelief and then a boisterous “Yeah!” as we jump up and down in unison.

Twenty minutes later the referrer blows the final whistle which signals the end of the game and a bout of tangible relief for all concerned.

The celebration a proper now begins as the pub's loud speakers blast an old classic…”if you want my body and you think I’m sexy come on dharling, let me know…” what would the occasion be without some Rod Stewart.

“Aiy mate, welcome to Scotland.”

Footnote: Lets go Tigers!