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Bob Shields UPFRONT ... AND OFF THE LEASH; Bank on Scots to rise to the big challenge.

IF I'd told you last week that two donations of sperm could buy you a ticket for Wembley, I'd have been carted off to the nearest nut-cracking suite for a lifetime course in basket weaving.

But this week, it's the bargain of the century.

A daily donation between now and kick-off and you could afford to fly to the match, shack up at the Hilton and have the best seat in the ground.

I can think of thousands of Scots who'd happily put their hand up for that offer. And if Glasgow Royal Infirmary could get their hands on 100 precious Wembley briefs, they'd have the world's most well-stocked sperm bank in two shakes.

But resorting to the import of Danish sperm is a genealogical outrage.

Scots carry centuries of passion, courage, tradition, determination and innovation around in their underpants.

But how many great Danes can you think of? Exactly. Just the one that was Cruft's supreme champion about five years ago.

Importing sperm? We should be selling the stuff. Our bodily fluids should be up there with whisky, Irn-Bru and oil as one of Scotland's liquid assets.

I was at a football match last week when both sets of fans claimed the other lot were all sperm donators. That's 12,000 for a kick-off and all 12,000 were in agreement that the referee was the biggest sperm donator on the planet.

Yet Glasgow Royal Infirmary tell us they have only ONE official donator on their register. Who is this guy? Instead of hiding behind anonymity, we should be striking him a medal.

The problem could be that Scots donors get only pounds 25 for their services, considerably less than their Danish counterparts. It's not a lot of money. On the other hand, so to speak, some Scots simply wouldn't donate sperm at any price.

And what's all this Danish nonsense about "Standard Grade", "Extra Grade" and "Reserve"?

Excuse me. This isn't 4-star unleaded we are talking about. This is your actual Flower of Scotland still in its seed packets. Our genes come in only one grade - "unblended - distilled in Scotland".

That should be enough to have foreign buyers scrambling for the stuff.

And if you can throw in a bit of extra provenance - "This donator is a direct descendant of Robert Burns/William Wallace-/King Kenny Dalglish etc. - it would be liquid gold.

We should send the Danes back their sperm. Or hang on to a dozen or so samples until we get 11 Michael Laudrups.

Come on Scotsmen. March down to your nearest fertility clinic with your heart singing that famous sperm donating anthem "We can still rise now, and be a nation again.

Diddy dame says they've got too much dosh to be truly posh

NEIGHBOURS in Hertfordshire have got their noses even higher in the air with the news that Becks and Posh are moving in.

"They're all money and no class," says diddy Dame Barbara Cartland.

Miss Cartland has been all money and no brains for decades.

And pronouncing on recently married young parents she has never even met is as classy as picking your nose and flicking it at the telly.

Posh, David and little Brooklyn would be more than welcome in my neighbourhood.

Especially when Posh has a girls' night out at our local. A Spice Girls' night out, that is.

And David could join our pub quiz team. No, wait a minute. On second thoughts, he could join our domino team.

He can count up to six, surely?

Time for Sky to kick off against the competition

TELEVISION company BSkyB may have bought up most of Britain's football, golf, rugby league and snooker - but they still don't have any balls.

Throughout their stranglehold reign on soccer, they've lavished us with fancy graphics, star analysts and interactive television. They keep telling us they are the best. So why don't they believe it themselves? Why not give Scottish, Grampian and Border the live game and let BSkyB go head to head with them all.

If Sky are the best, then football fans will surely side with Andy Gray, right, and Co.

Cut out this article and post it with your Daily Record petition to Tony Ball at BSkyB. How about some fair play, Tony?

Scary train of thought

A NURSERY and school in Clydebank are 'banning' Hallowe'en.

It looks like the teachers have even smaller minds than their little charges.

"It's too frightening," they argue and if more and more schools follow suit, a centuries old tradition will be lost forever.

Christmas is more distressing for kids than Hallowe'en. There are little ones missing a parent for the first time, for whatever reason. There are those that don't get the toys hyped on the children's TV. Others watch mums beaten up by dads full of festive 'spirit'. But Christmas is a 'Christian festival'. So that's all right then.

Beets aren't top swag

I FEAR that soup firm Baxters have got themselves in a pickle with their latest beetroot advert - the one where mum finds the jar opened and asks her kids who's been stealing.

Denial is useless - the juice is all over their hands.

I could be wrong, but I've never known a child steal beetroot in my life.

Or get off scot-free after lying to his mum.Sergio gets a sole in oneAFTER the behaviour of spectators at the Dunhill Cup, I thought golf etiquette had returned.

Then we watched Spain's Sergio Garcia kick his golf shoe around Wentworth - then aim it at the referee!

Sergio may be a great golfer. But he's still a high handicapper at growing up.
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Title Annotation:Features
Author:Shields, Bob
Publication:Daily Record (Glasgow, Scotland)
Date:Oct 16, 1999
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