Tap Shop Tartan Army - Stevies Diary Ahrnem

Tap Shop Tartan Armani Go Barmy in Italy
The Story Of Milan

This was the big one. The one that left everybody simply salivating at the prospect of red hot Latino action, no it wasn’t one of Twinkletoes’ DVDs, it was the vision of a wee West Lothian village on tour in the fashion capital of Milan. To see Scotland, with beer and pizzas this had to be every fans’ dream. It was their very own Mid Calder Italian Job. (Which is sound-a-like for what Big Twinkletoes usually does in his room with his DVD, albeit with a bit pizza and beer in the other hand too).

It all began not so much after the World Cup draw, but at last year’s Tap Shop Tartan Army Dance. The scene was set in darkest Pumpherston, the Golf Club to be exact, it was leap year 2004.

Towards the end of a splendid evening of the usual drunken debauchery, mild mannered Lorna, whispered to Credit Card “I’m gonna ask that big diddy to marry me?” Credit Card replied “Sorry hen. Big Stuff is spoken for, he’s married to blue label Smirnoff Vodka”. Lorna added “Nah no him ya eejit. Ma man yon Webmaster felly he’s the wan for me, I’ve been going out with him for 17 years. Gie me the microphone. Gosh it’s like a willie, only four times the size and black”. She grabbed the mike in both hands and declared “That’s it, ah’m gonna ask him”. The Chieftain on overhearing this whispered under his breath “I hope she’s no gonnae ask him where the batteries go?”

At a minute past 12 she popped the question on stage….”Does ma bum look big in this?” The Chieftain diplomatically said “Get on with it, yer bum’s at the bar!”

As she went down on one knee she said “Big Yin will ye marry me?” The Webmaster responded romantically with “If ye get doon on both knees tonight then Mr Delmonte he say – yes!” There followed a cacophony of noise. As the celebrations began Gazza Boyle did all he could to revive his brother, Webmaster, who was now out cold in shock. The Chieftain on gazing at the sight of one brother tending to the other like a wounded soldier in Private Ryan, measured this sight in contrast to 80 drunks circling them both and bouncing around to Runrig’s Loch Lomond. He said unto himself “Thank fcuk he said yes!”

And so, not only did the Tap Shop Tartan Army have a World Cup match to attend they also had a wedding to look forward to, so just how many would be going?

It’s a bit like Celtic fans and Seville when you ask “Were you there?” Several hundred thousand claimed to have been there but in truth the actual number was scientifically put at seventy-ish.

A TSTA cancelled trip to Moldova meant they had deposits burning a hole in Haymarket’s bar takings, oops his safe. The Captain, Vice Captain and Credit Card duly battered the keyboards and plastic and came up trumps with 44 Ryanair flights to Milan Bergamo for £70.00 each. Result. Others booked independently so they now had a total of 70 flights. The trouble was that when the flights were booked in October the Italian FA had not decided where the game should be played. It could have been anywhere, well anywhere in Italy and the venue was to be revealed in January. There followed months of sweating, the kind of sweating Big Stuff has at closing time with 10 folk in the queue ahead of him.

A further gamble was taken in securing hotel rooms for 90% of those travelling. They chose the four star Grand Hotel Verdi.

Orange, Virgin, T-Mobile and O2 networks were all jammed in the Mid Calder metropolis during the day the venue was announced and Haymarket’s takings were fourfold for any other Tuesday night as the TSTA celebrated their good fortune at HQ. Milan and the San Siro it was. Pools win.

Webmaster, Lorna, Gazza and the rest of the wedding party headed over to Milan a week before everyone else. Webmaster reported back home to the lads by text about how the weather was and important facts like how much a pint was. Friendly TSTA footsoldiers texted him back with words of support like “It’s no too late” and “Are you sure she’s no up the duff?”

As always the trip started with a karaoke and bevvy up at TSTA HQ. At 3.30 a.m. it was time to board the bus for Prestwick. All the bags were carefully placed in the boot of the bus. Pauline Fowler (he’s a bloke by the way) and Animal play in a band called “Caught in the Act” and decided to take guitars with them. The Boy Wonder had heard them playing before so he picked up their guitars for them and chucked them in the boot as hard as he could. Pauline Fowler and Animal proceeded to boot The Boy Wonder as hard as they could.

After a few beers on the bus Mongy Mong was amazed that Action Man had not been sick yet. A playful Bacardi Breezer burp in his face sorted that one out!

Before long all arrived at Prestwick Council Airport and the TSTA had the bar open at six a.m. They took up a third of the plane. An hour into the flight and following Mexican wave number 20 the beer ran out. Enough said.

The bus from the airport to Milan was 6 zonks and most of the TSTA managed to get on the first bus. Ifdotcon and Mike Baldwin looked like they had been dragged through a hedge backwards, which for them, was pretty good. The bus dropped them off at Centrale Station and they asked a local for directions. “300 metres” some Tally said. Aye right it was 300 metres to the road the hotel was on but the road was 2 miles long. Ten minutes into the walk along Via Melchiorre The Janny said “Stuff this I’m away for a coffee”. A coffee? A coffee? His case comes up before the committee in 2 weeks time.

Over in the city Webmaster and Gazza were out for an afternoon stroll with Jackie their sister and their young niece Laura Kay. Being in Italy with all that style and panache meant Laura was trying to look the part. Gazza gave her some tips on how models should walk. Luckily she didn’t listen to him as he has all the grace of a drunk three legged elephant on roller skates. Instead, she listened to her Mum’s advice and got the hang of the catwalk walk. As she strode elegantly down the Via Torino in the fashion district of Milan she turned the heads of four young Italian studs cruising by slowly in a gleaming Mini.

She continued to glide forward tipping her head to the side as she raised her replica Gucci sunglasses and gave them a wry smile while blushing slightly. Sadly 2 seconds later she blushed big-time as her left stiletto shoe got stuck in the pavement followed by her right shoe too! In a flash, she did a forward triple somersault with reverse pike across the pavement and fell on her erse. Scottish girls can outclass Italian burdz any day!

The hotel was knob out, a real classy joint. Pauline Fowler called Credit Card on his mobile to say they were on the second bus and that the driver had stopped the bus; confiscated his guitar and took his passport. On hearing about Pauline’s misfortune, the lads were happy to have a whip round to get his passport back and would happily double it if the bus driver kept his guitar.

Nicky Scissorhands had a wee bit of tonsil tennis with the Chieftain in their room on opening the door, when The Chieftain sexily declared “When did you get the inside of your gub pierced hen I just felt that wee lump?” Nicky blushed and said “Oh no ma fillin’s come oot and that lump is bigger than the one in your breeks is!” So it was no wedding for they two, only a visit to the dentists and a forlorn look at a McCowan’s penny chew.

The rest headed for the big wedding in taxis. Back home taxi drivers have tests to make sure they know where every street name is but in Milan just like men after 8 beers near a toilet pan, they just aim and hope. Big Raymond from West Calder has a second name that sounds like Lord so that’s his new TSTA nickname and as his buddy is always giving him advice he is now known as Ophra. Anyway, the two of them were having communication problems with the driver when trying to tell him where they wanted to go. They had the name of the wedding venue written down but could not pronounce it. In the end, Ophra pointed to his third finger, left hand and said “Matrimony”.

At last the driver clicked. Lord nodded to his buddy and gave him the thumbs up with a knowing look similar to being able to tell which pint’s Best and which is Eighty. They were sorted or so they thought. The supercharged Fiat Panda mounted the kerb and proceeded in a southerly direction on two wheels at 80 m.p.h. Minutes later the cabbie threw out the anchor the lads nappers’ hit the front seat headrests and kerpaw! They had arrived at the most expensive jewellery store in Milan. Lord Ophra rings!

It was a civil wedding, well as civil as it could be with the TSTA in attendance. It has to be said that Lorna looked a braw bride and The Webmaster looked a big girls blouse (Thanks to Hamlet for his contribution to this story, which was better than his X Certificate photos, currently doing the rounds on Ebay!) Seriously, it was all rather tasteful and the Daily Record’s Bob Shields was there too with a photographer to do a wee tale on the happy day. The Webmaster and Lorna appeared in “a full page spread” in the paper and this claimed The Webmaster was what he was going to do if he could follow page 15 of the Kama Sutra later that evening. The Ferry Fairy asked the big man “Are you a man or are you a moose? Are you a man are you gonna do it the night, or are ye a moose and gonna dae it tomorrow night?” The Webmaster paused and replied “Ah’m a rat ah done it last night!”

The reception was in The ENGLISH Football Pub. A touch of irony there! The Webmaster had enlisted the help of two Italians as wedding witnesses so Claudio and Nicki joined in at the reception too and got duly blootered with the rest of the crew thus making themselves honorary Scotsmen. Twinkletoes was the official bouncer keeping ne’erdowells safely out of the venue. He also insisted that he frisk the bride for about half an hour to check out for weapons of mass destruction.

Fried Egg and Annie Bear looked incredibly monged and the big man must have been as he said “I love you”. Unlucky for him though it was a waitress he was talking to at the time so Annie Bear delivered a timely skelp to the groin.

Outside in a taxi, River FM’s Liz called Credit Card live on air and he got a chance to blether on the phone with Sandy Clark back in sunny West Lothian whilst he was on his way back to the hotel. He kept Sandy on the phone gibbering enough crap in the taxi back to the hotel so that Vice Captain had to pay the fare as he was still talking when they go there.

Back at the hotel The Captain was already nursing what he claimed was beer number 19 of the day and he went on to describe as best he could, his photo he got taken earlier in the day. He had trouble getting the words together, which drew suspicion as to the real number of beers he had, or the possibility that he meant 19 beers and 19 haufs. The photo was priceless as The Captain was lying down on the tarmac astride a painted bicycle on the ground (see www.tapshopta.com for details).

Pauline Fowler and Animal got their guitars out in the hotel bar and were doing a brilliant rendition of Franz Ferdinand’s “Take me Out”. The place was rocking. The barmen Fabio and Massimo were happy to keep the bar open while everyone was singing and dancing into the wee small hours as well as have their photos taken with Mary Doll and Mongy Mong. The barmen also put out a few sandwiches for the troops and at one point a tray of Belgian chocolates appeared too, which didn’t last long.

What a sight at breakfast. There was a collection of some seriously bad looking hangovers. Litchfield was in the lift talking to himself and trying to find out which floor his mirror image was going to and when he got no reply he simply pointed and said “Fud!” Downstairs Big Stuff had already scoffed just about everything he possibly could; croissants, jam, bacon, eggs, fruit but suddenly he had that glint in his eye. Then he was off like a bullet to the table that held, wait for it, Champagne. Yes the big man had died and gone to heaven there was Champagne there for a Bucks Fizz. The Janny burst into tears, as it was such a moving moment for him to see the joy on his mate’s face. The young Bishop Brothers shook their heads in disbelief and wondered how they could avoid growing up to be a Big Stuff.

The TSTA girls got their photos taken with a large Desperate Housewives advertising billboard, which somehow seemed apt as they were choking on a drink according to Dutch.

It was the day of the game and it was off to the square they did go. Around 6,000 other Scots also descended on the Piazza Duomo and those already there were Fried Egg, Annie Bear, The Fugitive and his new chick Cockney Laura plus Skin’ Don’t took up the rear (oops). They were staying in a centrally located hotel, unfortunately it was central Barcelona though rather than Milan. Paint Shop Boy and Nicole were staying even further a field. He was monged but luckily the wee one did a bit of geography at the school and found the square for him.

Mary Doll, Nicky Scissorhands, Mongy Mong, and Dutch headed off to the designer shops and were bedecked in Scotland gear including mini skirts. Big Fried Egg couldn’t fit into one and necked vodka gear instead.

The girls made it into The Prada shop and were looking at some key rings when the girl at the counter shouted on security. The TSTA girls were black affronted and Dutch declared “The cheek, I’m just going to buy this key ring then”. Nicky asked “How much is it then Dutch?” to which Dutch replied “120 Euros” she then handed it over to Nicky Scissorhands, pointed straight at her and shouted “Security, security!”

Back in the square Nicole talked about the pizza Paint Shop Boy had the previous evening it was ham, sausage, cheese, onion, peppers, tatties, salami, tomatoes, anchovies, and pineapple. The troops were impressed at her Dad eating such a monster pizza. “Naw that was his street pizza last night, after all the beer Dad drunk, except I missed the diced carrots I can’t mind him eating them!” she quipped.

In the square Credit Card and Vice Captain were speaking to a couple of Germans from Nuremburg. They were husband and wife and they said they enjoy following Scotland. The girl said to Credit Card “I have zour photo on mine PC at vurk. Yes you and der Don Lawson from the Highland Tartan Army”. Vice Captain declared “Bloody hell I thought the only Germans that would have your photo Credit Card was Interpol mind you it isn’t half novel to have a PC monitor as a dart board!” Anyway both CC and VC were monged and forgot to ask their Nuremburg friends their names. But as promised they are included in the TSTA story and dear frauline you need therapy looking at Credit Card’s coupon everyday but if you want a full frontal photo of Credit Card these can be bought for 50p through our website, or through www.uglybloke.com.

The Tartan Army are generally a well-behaved bunch and the Ferry Fairy was getting annoyed as several footballs were getting kicked up into the air and he was becoming increasingly concerned about the health of his carry out. He grumbled on and on and pointed to the latest kicker a six foot six Aberdonian bear who catapulted the Mitre Size 5 high into the sky.

Everyone turned to watch as the ball soared some 70 feet or so into the chilly afternoon air, the ball seemingly gathering ice due to its altitude.

At this point along swaggered a suave, sophisticated 50 year-old, sunspecced Italian chap dressed in an expensive Armani suit. He meandered to the spot the ball was about to fall on, offered his chest to the heavens, trapped the ball stone dead, leaned back 90 degrees and delivered a slow-motion Denis Law bicycle kick high back to where the ball first appeared from and then took a bow to rapturous Tartan Army applause! Class.

EASTA’s The Claw appeared on the scene with the news every Tayside Social Worker needing overtime has been waiting on, yes he’s going to be a Dad!

Very soon it was time to check on Diesel Dave who had a wee disco sleep following a morning of large whiskies, purely for medicinal purposes mind. He was fine and it was off to the stadium ably supported by Luther’s firm grip of his arm. By now the rain had started and the Boy Wonder somehow managed to get hold of someone’s Versace umbrella which he used with great skill to bash everyone out of the way to reach the metro station. (The Boy Wonder’s trophy is on display at TSTA HQ). Following a general sing song on the metro Pauline Fowler’s classic song was sung to the tune of Tony Christie’s Amarillo:

Show me the way to the San Siro
Were off the beer and on the vino
Give the girls a Scots Bambino
And name him Hamish after me

The TSTA emerged at Lotto station splashing through puddles and blasting out “Singing in the Rain” at the tops of their voices with The Boy Wonder splashing everyone in sight except himself.

Despite all the TSTA supposedly all sitting together only about 12 actually made it to their correct seats. The rest just found a spare one and fell down. “The San Siro is very similar to Almondvale as it rains there too” said The Webmaster on clocking the inside of the stadium for the first time.

The atmosphere was brilliant until Italy scored. It was a wonder free-kick which fair zoomed past a bewildered Rab Douglas who tripped over a vicious looking daisy going for it in the process and got himself severely injured. Craig Gordon replaced him and he lost another goal from yet another brilliant free kick. In between this Kenny Miller was clean through on goal (the kind you score yourself at the 5 a sides every week). Instead of doing just that, he thought to himself clean through, just the world’s best goalie to beat in one of the best stadiums in the world and he looked up and saw Vice Captain mouth the words “Oh fcuk it’s Kenny Miller this one’s going past the post”. Kenny didn’t disappoint Vicey and that was it. Another humping!

Still, at times Scotland played well and with some heart, which was a lot better than they did under Berti Hoax.

The smart TSTA footsoldiers made it back to the hotel by tram and metro, the rest didn’t make it back until an hour to two later. In between times The Boy Wonder, Jenny Pintpuller and Gnasher pretended to a policewoman that Jenny was in the family way, so they could get out the ground more quickly.

Once back at The Grande Hotel Verdi a full-scale wake was in force for yet another defeat. Young Colin sported a wizard’s hat and was christened Gandalf. His first trick was to turn wine into water. Pauline Fowler and Animal got their guitars out and soon the game, like Deisel Dave’s earlier whiskey frenzy, was just a distant memory.

Luther chatted up one of the older Italian lassies who was one of the receptionists. In a scene akin to The Graduate he hit the crossbar, which was closer than Scotland came to scoring. Marshall Mallow tried too with Mrs Robinson-Pizza but in truth there was more chance of an amputee beating Big Stuff on double vodkas. Then Haymarket did his Rocky impression by skelping a guy who nicked his phone. It was a braw skelp though and well deserved, especially as the guy was Scottish and stayed at the same hotel. Before placing him into the lift by the shirt-collar Haymarket got his room number and followed it up with a £10 bar bill for distress and inconvenience and the booking of early morning alarm calls from reception every hour on the hour starting at 4 a.m. A less impressive skelp followed later which almost shut the bar.

At four a.m. Massimo and Fabio finally closed the bar.

At breakfast Ifdotcon appeared with a vest and kilt on and looked like a Village People extra, only beaten in terms of gayness and in the looking ridiculous stakes by Caz’s photo of The Chieftain the previous night in a leather waistcoat.

A rare sight was Marshall Mallow making a second appearance for breakfast of the tour. Incredible. He’s been on umpteen tours before this one and never made breakfast once, usually because someone else makes it for him if you know what I mean, or at least that what he claims we reckon it’s……McDonald’s! The last comment on breakfast goes to the safety-helmet-clad Humpty Dumpty who was found guzzling the full works brekkie, not unusual for him I suppose, what was unusual was that he wasn’t staying in the official TSTA hotel!

Following brekkie, Hamlet and Bet Lynch decided a day of culture was needed and headed off to see Milan’s museums. Big Stuff decided otherwise and just got pished.

Seventeen footsoldiers decided a day trip to Bergamo might be a good way to spend Easter Sunday, but only after devouring the massive Easter Egg the hotel asked them to scoff. They headed off to Centrale Station where they bumped into the newly weds on the same carriage! How was that for coincidence? Before long they were all sauntering up Via Papa Giovanni XIII in Bergamo taking in the views of the old town on top of the hill.

They took the funicular railway up to the old town and being kilted-up attracted the attention of tourists who wanted their pictures taken with the motley crew. They had a look inside the Duomo, a magnificent church, which Nicky Scissorhands reckoned would make a braw Witherspoons. They then headed back down the funicular railway and ended up in The Ritual, a fine Irish Bar in Bergamo for an aperitif or 10.

Next, Credit Card had booked them into a restaurant he had been to a couple of months previous, which was just round the corner called La Bruschetta. When in there, following the main course, The Boy Wonder leapt to his feet and declared at the top of his voice (pointing to Jenny Pintpuller) “This is the woman I love and she is having my baby everyone”. The TSTA got to their collective feet and whooped and cheered loudly and to their surprise so did the rest of the restaurant. A few even shook The Boy Wonder’s hand. The trouble is he was making it up and it was just a laugh! Caz was crying laughing as a queue of Italian well-wishers formed.

The troops stayed there for quite some time and were stunned when the bill was only £20 each including drinks, which were plentiful in number and measures. Bargain! On leaving, the manager handed them a bottle of malt whisky and six of his finest wines. A magnificent gesture and one well appreciated by the TSTA who will be back some day.

It was time to head back to the station for the last train back to Milan via a pit stop back at The Ritual. On the walk back to the station it became clear that Luther was blitzed, he tripped over Mongy Mong’s shoe, fell against a delivery truck and picked up a few coins on the road before getting back up again. Luther then said “I found some van dross!”

On the train they had a carriage to themselves except for 3 Italians, 2 Portuguese and someone else. Vice Captain asked the someone else where he was from and he thought he heard “synagogue” and declared “I’m kind of Jewish too, have you seen my…”. A slightly bemused chap then replied “No I said Senegal!”

A massive drunken sing-song ensued and Action Man and The Captain managed to get the wine open which Gnasher then duly scoffed. You know the scene from Trainspotting where the baby crawls along the ceiling? Well Action Man was trying something similar crawling along the luggage racks. Not a pretty sight considering his kilt got caught in the net so to speak!

The sing-song lasted ages and it was time to bed as early calls were needed as everyone had to leave the hotel at 8 a.m. Needless to say Mongy mong, Action Man, The Cheiftain and Nicky Scissorhands all slept in and had to fork out 50 Euros for taxis to the airport.

The others who were on the Ryanair bus could chill out looking out of the window. As they approached the airport gates three saddos were scribbling on notebooks and Dutch declared “Look at those trainspotters”. Vice Captain said “They might be planes not trains hen” just before she broke his nose.

Their flight was smooth enough home but it didn’t so much land as was “shot down” as it careered along the runway. The troops had to have a few beers at the airport bar while they waited on their bus and The Bot Wonder took his full pint on board, fell asleep and spilled it all over him, or perhaps he just peed himself.

On getting back to HQ Luther puffed on a cigarette OUTSIDE the pub clearly thinking he was still in Italy, bless him, the fag ban ain’t in Soctland yet. And so endeth another tour. Roll on Belarus.

Photographic Evidence