The pair sat in Scotland shirts on the train to Stuttgart but were speaking in German so I had to find out their story. It turned out Maciej was from Poland and had visited London, bumped into some Scots there and found himself drawn. And Lars, a German from Bochum, was taken to Stirling on holiday as a child by his English teacher mum. “From then I am like this for Scotland,” he announced, conveying addiction by miming injecting something into his arm.
Two middle-aged European guys, somehow emotionally to the auld country, crossing Germany to enlist in the Tartan Army — what could be more beautiful than that? Well, winning. But let’s not be daft. That would be too much to ask.
How to
