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If you're pasta caring about football, just watch England.

Byline: Tam Cowan

So, in keeping with that policy, let's talk about England's performance against Italy on Sunday.

I reckon that's the first time I've ever watched a team getting gubbed 0-0. Roy Hodgson's squad have now flown home. Well, apart from John Terry who'll probably pop up when the winners lift the trophy.

More than 22million tuned in for the game - the BBC's biggest audience since Taxi For Cowan - and I watched it at an Italian restaurant in Glasgow city centre called Piazza Italia.

Racist? Xenophobic? Don't be daft. You tell me where I could have found an "English" restaurant in Glasgow.

The atmosphere was incredible, particularly when Italy won the penalty shootout and one jubilant supporter did that Grand Prix thing with a bottle of Champagne (note to Aberdeen fans - Champagne is like a sort of fizzy white wine).

I got absolutely soaked. Good practice, I suppose, ahead of Motherwell's assault on the Champions League.

Thanks to the free-flowing Chianti, I only have two other vague memories from a brilliant night.

1. I was reliably informed by some of the boys that two of our most popular swearies - the f-word and the c-word - don't actually translate into Italian.

This explains why the guys couldn't express themselves properly whenever we heard Mark Lawrenson's annoying, whiny voice.

2. One of the other Scots in the crowd - a nice wee fella called Gordon - claimed to have once slept with a burd who was wearing an electronic tag.

That struck a chord with yours truly as, on the rare occasion I get my Nat King, it feels as if my wife is wearing a tag. On her toe.

My missus hates football and I think the ongoing Rangers saga is driving her round the twist.

Just the other night, she asked: "How come the club is now being run by Seb Coe?" Naw," I explained, "it's Sevco".

(I actually think the club should take a leaf out of Prince's book and call themselves The Artists Formerly Known As Mince.) My mate Peter is also a bit dizzy. Looking back on the England game, he said: "Why didn't they pick Gareth Bale of Spurs?" Ehhh? Probably because he's Welsh. Peter's still trying to work out why a great team like Brazil didn't even qualify for Euro 2012.

PS. Tickets to the moon are set to go on sale for about pounds 100million. Where's Craig Whyte going to find that sort of money? Strathclyde Police have launched a criminal investigation into Whyte's purchase of Rangers.

Quite right, too. I mean, come on, a pound? He was clearly robbed.

With the Fraud Squad now on his tail, I'm beginning to understand why wee Craig famously never wore a belt with his breeks.

He's probably had his shoelaces removed as well.
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Title Annotation:Features; Opinion, Column
Publication:Daily Record (Glasgow, Scotland)
Date:Jun 27, 2012
Previous Article:Going in the wrong Direction.

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