Back from a very nice wedding weekend in Wisconson. A turkey, a pilgrim and a couple of native American Indians storming the dancefloor late last night only adding to the memories.
The European qualifier scores filtered through on Saturday and I did feel sorry for the Scots who suffered the inevitable anguish
. I remember my brother and I having a beer at the end of September with a good Italian friend of mine concerned about his countries chances of qualifying and us reassuring him that Scotland were bound to cock it up. They did but it's a real shame because I for one would have loved to have seen the tartan army at the finals evoking halycon memories of Archie Gemmill and Alan Rough. Lets hope Northern Ireland
can squeeze through the back door instead.
As for England, well my regular readers will know I have schizophrenic tendencies towards the national team. McClaren is a nob no doubt but against all odds
Israel overcame the Russians and amazingly we now only need a point on Wednesday against the already qualified Croatia. For all but two months every four years my support of the national team is passive at best but then of course during the two big tournaments I wrap myself like others in the St. George.
Next June's festival of football would of course be wretched without us in it, although no doubt I would get over it. The answer to that renowned football fan question. Club or Country?
Doesn't take much thinking about from this quarter.
So Wednesday I will of course drag a motley crew of ex-pats and American 'soccer' fans, including a Croat down to the boozer to hopefully watch us grab a place in Austria and Switzerland next year. Enger-land....