Tartan Barmy

In case you're not aware, I'm a football fan. Not footy, soccer or the beautiful game, but a fitba fan. I've been going to Pittodrie to watch Aberdeen since the mid 1970's. The game's generally been ruined by the johnny come latelys who believe Sky invented footy (I hate that bloody word) in 1992. I'll blog about that another day, tonight's all about international football.

I find internationals a bloody nuisance. You're just getting into the domestic season and an international turns up and breaks the pattern. I have little or no interest in the Scotland international team for several reasons.

Nowadays very few Dons players get into the international side (although Miller and Langfield are with them this time, because the Old Firm players have picked up "injuries" again. Pound to a penny they are all back playing for the bigot brothers next weekend though). I really can't be arsed watching a team full of Rangers and Celtic reserves, plus some guys who play in the English lower leagues but who our esteemed Manager thinks are good players because there's loads of dosh sloshing about in what is Divisions 3 and 4 in old money.

On top of that you've got the Tartan Army themselves. Now I know guys who follow the National Team and good luck to them. But I can't get excited about wandering the world dressed like I've just jumped off the front of a shortbread tin or arrived from Brigadoon singing Doh a Deer or We'll be coming down the road. Each to their own. I'm a parochial sod and will continue to be an Aberdeenshire loon first and foremost thanks.

But the biggest reason I've little interest in international football is Ally MacLeod. Ally was Aberdeen manager when I started going to the football. Ally won the League Cup in 1976 with the Dons. The picture adorning this blog is of Drew Jarvie and Davie "the Brush" Robb celebrating said win. Ally left the Dons and became Scotland Manager. And told us we'd win the World Cup. I was 9 years old. I believed him. Along with everyone else at school we got the 1978 World Cup tops (HUGE badges thereon). My sis and I had Ally's Tartan Army t-shirts. We sat at home eagerly awaiting the first game against Peru. We lost 3-1. Iran......1-1........Holland (THAT Archie Gemmill goal) win 3-2 but we're out. That wasn't supposed to happen. It's a big deal for a 9 year old for a hero to lie to them.

And so it went on.........1982, Alan Hansen gets in the road of Willie Miller, Russia send us out. 1986, we can't beat a team who were down to 10 men after a couple of minutes.............1990 we get beat by Costa Rica..............

It's too much to bear. I can handle Aberdeen being rubbish. It's my calling in life to support my local team through thick and thin, over the past 15 years mostly very thin. But I can't double up and do the same with the international side anymore. I admire those who can. It's just not for me nowadays.

But I can't be mad with Ally anymore, rest his soul, he was an optimist, something this country doesn't have many of. He also had a personality, which, again, is a rare commodity.

So excuse me if I don't watch Scotland draw with Japan this weekend, but to those of you who do....."We'll be coming, we'll be coming, we'll be coming down the road"..................

Tonight's musical recommendation is from The Smiths. How Soon is Now? Listen to Johnny Marr's guitar on this and wonder, how in the world did he do that. The man is a genuis.