Fitba, Bevvy, and Burdz, but Gonnae No Play That . . .

Summary


Picture, if you will, this fantastic scene in Milan the other night. The Celtic fans, having much taken to the great gothic pile of a cathedral known as Il Duomo, are gathered beneath the transepts and figurines of the vast 12th century homage to Christ. The troops are playing football, bevvying themselves up, and leering longingly at Milanese women who walk past, many of them upon legs like stilts.

By the side of Il Duomo one of those Euro-trash pop acts is happily belting out hit after hit. Why, this is all marvellous, the Celtic troops are saying, playing football at the cathedral doors, guzzling jars of beer and, to the band's utter amazement, warmly applauding each song.

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Extract


Fitba, Bevvy, and Burdz, but Gonnae No Play That . . .

Alas, this unique celebration of Christianity, football and lager is suddenly brought to a shuddering halt. The band duly break into Tina Turner's Simply The Best and are stunned to find their erstwhile appreciative audience ...

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