INTRODUCTION
42 grounds in the space of eight months. Dozens of pies and more pints than I probably needed. Countless trains and numerous buses. Many miles walked and one ditch fallen into. Howling wind, torrential rain, snow, sleet and that other phenomenon which I’ll call ‘sleesh’, which is a bit like sleet only wetter, though not quite rain, and unique to Scotland.
To be honest, I don’t know how I managed it. I had 15 grounds under my belt by the end of September and 33 before January was out. That’s ridiculous. I’m not sure I could repeat the feat and I suppose I don’t have to. But would I do it again? Don’t be daft. I had my Scottish football safari and lived to tell the tale.
It was a time of Jose Quitongo. A time when St Mirren played at Love Street and Gretna were busy living the dream. A time when the very notion of Rangers facing the threat of liquidation would’ve seemed preposterous.
I don’t remember there being so much doom and gloom around Scottish football back then in the 2006-07 season. I mean, it wasn't all magical. Some of it was dismal but it wasn't this grim.
Hey-ho.
