Foo they hingin', chiels ? Wi' the missus bein' awa last midweek fur a puckle days tae git hur mowzer cluppit, ah thocht ah'd heid doon tae Weegieland and hae a skek at the twa teams thit caused us Jocks tae lose ane o' oor Champions League places.
Althoughs the game wuz at Parkheid, mah guid freend Wullie (faz a Hun)goat us intae Ibrox an' we partook o' sum o' the Gers' hospitality. There wiz a fair choice as weel - there wuz the Thornton Suite, the Cooper Suite, Club Europe (which wiz empty of coorse), but we plumped fir the simple option - The Allan McGregor Suite.
No fancy dan scoff, jist a 2 finger buffet, loads o' punch an' a nicht ahent bars if ye so desired.Weel wirth the £2.50 admishun, even if ah say it masel. The only doonside wiz the pairking. Fan the twa o' us pilled up in the Fordson an cairtie, we wuz approached by a Shellsuit Ambassador oafferin' tae look efter oor veehickles. Fan ah esked hum fit he wid dae wi' the bogey, he jist sed he'd leave it hingin' fae hiz nose like he ivir did.
Fit did impress me wiz the communal singin'. They obviously luv yon Mcgregor az aw the soangs wir aboot hum. The farst twa must hae been scribed by his son as they were "Hail, Hail Ma Pop's in Jail" an' "The Slash My Faither Wore".
Onyweys, fit aboot the gemme itsel ?
Aw blud an' snottirs. A'body wiz fechtin' wi a'body.
Oan the puckle times the players bathered wi' the ba, Lennon's loons wur streets ahead o' Wattie' Weans.
The Huns' defence lookit shakier than mah grannie's Sunday jeely.
Gie me the Meikle Wartle v Kemnay local derby onydey.