Dual-Nationality

Having been born in England (well... Newcastle/Wallsend), but raised in Scotland since I was four, I find myself split when it comes to international sport. Okay, if England are playing Scotland my allegiances remain south of the border (partly as a consequence of growing up as a die-hard Newcastle football fan), but against anyone else Scotland gets my undivided support. Though I don't sing either anthem (for various non-royalist reasons and unintended xenophobia contained in both songs).

So 24 hours after cheering England on the telly against France I was at Murrayfield getting horse towards the end of of a match which was dominated by Ireland, but during which Scotland defended like they were possessed by... defending... demons.... Or something. They almost contrived to give it away. This was the final scrum down of the match - 80 minutes already on the clock, Scotland put in, simple matter of getting the ball out the back then kicked into touch. Except Scotland contrived to give away a penalty, giving Ireland the chance to run in from 5 yards. Except they screwed up, the ball was dropped, lost forward, cue eruption from the stands.

It's moments like this that make going to live matches so worth it. The television can give you replays, you have the warmth and comfort of your sofa, and you can turn it off if it's all too much to bear; but... being there.... in the atmosphere... Can't beat it.