I’D
be gutted, absolutely gutted, if Scotland dumps me. We rub along pretty well
and you want to end 300 years of history?
Come
on, you can’t be serious.
I’m
British and don’t want to be a foreigner when I come to Scotland any more than
I want Scots to be foreigners when they go to England or Wales.
We’ve
so many ties and been through a lot together so it seems daft to divorce so
Alex Salmond can play the big man.
We
Geordies have more in common with you Scots than we do with the Surrey
stockbroker belt.
I
hail from South Shields on Tyneside and grew up reading The Broons and Oor
Wullie annuals at Christmas.
I
flicked little plastic Subbuteo football players in Celtic and Rangers strips.
I
cheered when Archie Gemmill scored that 1978 World Cup goal with that lovely
mazy run and gorgeous left-footed finish against Holland.
I
wasn’t so happy a few years later, it’s true, narrowly escaping a beating at
Wembley by the Tartan Army’s militarised wing.
But
we’ll let that pass. Newcastle hoolies chased this Sunderland fan a fair few
times so it matters little whether the pursuers were in kilts or black and
white stripes.
And
I’ll confess when I bumped into Gary McAllister on a train last week I fondly
recalled his missed penalty the day England beat Scotland at Wembley in Euro
'96.
I’m
an England football supporter – though that’s not easy with Roy Hodgson’s
dreary excuse for a team – but I still want Scotland to beat Germany tomorrow
with Steven Fletcher scoring the winner.
So
don’t let Alex Salmond con you into believing us lot don’t care or want to be
shot of Scotland.
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