Okay the Nou (Camp), Jimmy!

What a time Goran and I had in Scotland! We have made lots of new friends, and out team has come away with another win! If it wasn’t for the weather and a night in the local jail it would have been perfect! Not that it was easy getting away though, as our girlfriends Nokya Blokov and Ima Bitvilius didn’t want us to go. We don’t trust you after what you got up to in South Africa, they say, and in the end Nokya (who works in the prison services in Barcelona) only agrees if we they can fit us with tags which she has smuggled out of the prison. We will be tracking where you go with our GPS system they say, so make sure you stay out of trouble. Really! It doesn’t surprise me though, Nokya is a bit like that – I call her “La Perpetua”, after “cadena perpetua” (life sentence), and she can be frightening at times.

Anyway its off to Hampden Park in Glasgow, and we check in to our hotel for a quick bite to eat before going to the game. We are served a traditional dish of haggis with bashed neap, which is like our “morcilla” with turnips. We are enjoying it until the waiter says it is wrapped in a sheep’s stomach, at which point Goran turns a bit green. Better not to know these things! Time though before kick off to watch the under 21 team in Croatia on our lap-top, and Goran (who is part Croatian) is having his feelings mixed up not knowing who to support. We won 2-1 in Burgos three days ago, and after a few problems we win this one 0-3. Don’t worry Goran, I say, if Spain get to the semi-finals in summer we will qualify for the Olympic Games in London, and the nice people at Soccer-Spain will want us to go and report on the matches. That cheered him up a bit!

Off to the match, and we try to ask directions to the ground, but we don’t understand anything anybody is saying to us! We ask if they can speak English, but they say they are doing, but we still don’t understand. So we follow the crowd, especially the ones wearing “faldas” (which we are told are called kilts) and ginger wigs, and in no time we are there. By now it is very cold, and we are wearing coats and scarves, but the Scottish people are only wearing T-shirts, and some have no shirts at all. They must be from a different planet!

So the game gets under way, and it seems Scotland are not so easy to beat as we thought. We have a few chances but so do they, and it is evens for Stevens until we get a penalty for hands, and David Villa scores! It is the 44th minute, and it is his 44th goal for Spain, the same number as Raúl, our highest scorer. One more and he will be the best ever! Goran wants to know though whether it is true that the Scots wear nothing under their kilts, so at half time we make our way to the “caballeros” toilet to have a look. We can confirm that this is true, but one of the men turns round and asks what are you looking at, Jimmy? We explain that we are intrepid reports from Soccer-Spain.com and are here to report on the match, and he says that’s all right then, I thought you were bumbandis or something (not sure what that is, maybe a local gang?).

So we get talking and he invites us to watch the game with his pals. He tells us that Spain are probably the best team he’s ever seen here, and the way they move the ball around is incredible. Iniesta scores again and it looks like another win, but then we get overconfident, and in ten minutes Scotland are level after Naismith heads one past Casillas and Piqué turns another in to his own net (will you please stop doing that!). Luckily though Del Bosque brings on our Fernando Torres clone, Llorente, and with his first kick he scores. Our new friends tell us that, other than the Sassenachs (whoever they are), nobody has scored three past them since 1979, and we are proud of our boys.

Anyway, they invite us to have a “wee heavy and a half pint” after the final whistle (are they really speaking English?), and after establishing that everybody in Scotland calls each other Jimmy (that way they don’t have to remember their own names) we set off down town. By now Goran is getting in to the swing of things, and he decides to go commando, discarding his underpants in a pub toilet and putting on a skirt which he bought in a late-night store we passed on the way, not a kilt as they didn’t have any, but with a nice little Laura Ashley design. It takes a bit of time for our new friends to get used to that, but eventually they decide not to kill him and we carry on the tour of the pubs and bars of foggin glasgee (as they call it here).

Well we are having a great night when my mobile vibrates, and there is a message from “La Perpetua” saying that the blip on her screen tells her that we are not in the hotel, and if we are not back there in five minutes she will send an electric shock to our tags which will remind us once and for ever that we promised to be back there by midnight. It looks like it’s all over, but then Goran says to our pals why not come back to our hotel, we have a mini-bar the size of an abattoir deep-freeze and we can’t drink it all by ourselves. Sometimes Goran is inspired, and after loading up with take-aways just in case, we flag down three mini-bus taxis (by now there are over 20 of us) and on to the hotel.

The rest is a bit of a blur, but at four o’clock the police turn up telling us that they have had complaints from Edinburgh and the Outer Hebrides about the noise, and they cart us off to the local cells. We are a bit worried about the tags, but one of our pals has worn these before, and he helps us slip them off and leave them in a cupboard so as not to alert our girlfriends. The police tell us that they have had a heavy night, especially as they have had a call from a pub about a possible new wave of underpant bombings, and they are right now defusing a suspicious looking pair which have been left in their toilets. Goran keeps his head down and his mouth shut.

Anyway they let us out this morning, and the police kindly give us an escort to the airport to make sure we catch the plane! What a helpful lot they are over here! In one year’s time Scotland will be coming to Spain for the return match, and wherever it will take place we have invited our chums to come over. Hopefully by then the girls will trust us enough not to put tags on us. They should know by now that deep down we are really angelitos!