European Championship Qualifier
Iceland	0	2	Scotland
			Dailly
			Naysmith

It's fuckin freezin in Iceland. Ah suppose that wid explain why there's so much ice.

Braw name though, eh? Iceland. Leaves ye in nae doubt as to whit ye can expect when ye get there. Nae false expectations. No like Greenland. That's just an ootright con - it isnae green at aw. Ah flew ower it once and it's just pure white, white, white as far as the eye can see. They really shoulday called it Whiteland.

Anyway, back tae Iceland.

Berti tried tae get the game called off on account ay the fact it wis that cold doon on the pitch-side his gonads froze solid and were knockin' together and clacking like wan o' they executive desk toys wi' the dangly metal balls.

Ye cannae concentrate on coaching a team wi that kinday thing gaun on in yer boxers every time ye leap aff the bench.

But naw, the EUFA official insisted the game had tae go on unless sumbdy died o' frostbite in the warm up.

As it wis, Iceland were the team that froze on the day and Scotland finally took the heat off Berti by notching up his first win as manager. And aboot bloody time too.

The passion, pride, effort and commitment, so noticeably lacking in the Faroes, wis back in abundance and it looks like we might even have found oor new "Braveheart" in Steven Pressley, a real chip off the old Colin Hendry block if this performance is anything tae go by.

Suddenly, "Berti's Babes" are back in business. Berti had promised it wis only a matter of time before his young team turned the corner and gave somebody a good doing.

In that respect, ye have tae feel a bit sorry for Iceland, like, bein' the unlucky ones tae face the backlash.

But there again, any country that unleashes an ugly wee bolshie pixie twat like Bjork onto an unsuspecting world deserves nae sympathy at all.

Ah mean, fer goadssakes, is she shite or whit?