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Nothing compares to the raw and rugged brilliance of Scottish football

It may be unfashionable but Scottish football has a beauty you won’t find at PSG or on Barcelona’s tourist-filled stands

By Lawrence Donegan for Nutmeg, part of the Sport Network

In 1992, when I was a thrusting young(ish) reporter on the Scotsman, my then girlfriend (and now wife) and I went on holiday to the west coast of the United States. We were walking down the Third Street Promenade in Santa Monica, California, when we came across an international newspaper stand – a relic of the pre-internet age that offered ye olde worlde travellers a link back to the homeland, albeit with the immediacy we would all associate with Kris Commons doing 40-yard sprints in training.

We shelled out $11 for a copy of a four-day-old Guardian. It carried all sorts of interesting news on politics and international affairs. I remember a column written by Roy Hattersley – very handy in case of toilet paper emergencies. However, there were no Scottish football results. Money wasted. Day. Fucking. Ruined. Celtic may (or may not) have beaten Aberdeen sometime within the week and I had no clue.

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