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  December 2001
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

 

 
International Friendly
Scotland 1 2 Romania
McFadden      
       

Berti phoned me up a couple o’ weeks ago tae ask ma advice.

“Vot can you tell me about Roo-mania, Paw?” he asked.

Ah wisnae sure if it wis a trick question or no, so ah took a while before responding.

“Er….is it a form o’ madness suffered by Kangaroos?” ah said.

“Nein, nein Paw. It iz ein country in Eastern Europe. I thought you might know something about their fussball team.”

“Ah” ah says, “Ye mean Romania?”

“Ja. Roo-mania, das ist correct. Vot can you tell me about zem?”

“Next tae fuck all, ah’m afraid. Ah ken one thing that might be important though.”

“Anything that might help would be appreciated Paw, mein neck ist really on the block after the last couple of humpings we’ve had. This is ein must-win game.”

“Well” ah says, “ah seem tae recall that Romania is where Dracula came fae. They’re maist likely aw vampires.”

Ye wid think bein German, he wid awready ken stuff like this.

“So, vot are you suggesting, Paw?”

Ah advised him that the players should each wear silver crosses on the pitch and chew several cloves of garlic before the game.

“Goot plan Paw! Zis ist ein master stroke! If ve do this, do you think mein boys are sure to win the game?”

“Naw” ah says, “no necessarily. But ye can be sure that naebdy will want tae get too close tae thum.”

“Yer best bet” ah continued, “wid be tae see if ye can get the match switched tae an afternoon kick-off, and that way, if the sun shines, the Romanians’ll all crumble tae dust.”

Nae joy on that front, though. The game went ahead in the evening as planned.

On the plus side, Celtic’s John Kennedy made his first senior appearance for Scotland since being assassinated in Dallas in 1963 and looked very comfortable until being scythed down by a full set of Romanian studs and carried off in the 14th minute. The curse of the Kennedys strikes again.

It wis pretty much aw doonhill fae there.

The Romanians, as ye’d expect fae vampires, had mair bite about them than we did and struck twice when we were asleep. Pressley certainly deserves tae get it in the neck fer his part in the second goal.

Apart fae McFadden who showed the way tae dae it by penetrating swiftly like a stake through the heart of the Romanian defence, we were like lambs tae the slaughter.

Where wis Peter “Van Helsing” Cushing when we needed him, eh?

Probably oot injured.

This wis one Hammer House of Horrors performance we cannae blame him for.


 

S