And send them homewards

For many, many years I've known I'm a rugby jinx. Whenever The Boy was playing in a match, if I went along to support, his team lost. If I stayed at home, they won. I don't even have to be there in the flesh; it's the same with watching on TV. If I watch to support a particular team they lose (or 'come second', as I suppose we're meant to say). The only matches I'm safe to watch are the ones where I don't care two hoots who wins; but there's not the same excitement, no adrenalin rush, so I generally don't bother any more.

So when, like today, there's a match on TV where I support a particular side, I'll busy myself doing something else in another room (today I cleaned the bathroom) and trry to keep up with events by listening to Ned's commentary ("Would that be an English tosser or a Scottish tosser, dear? Ah, I thought so.").

Later on I asked whether we won. I could tell by Ned's disconsolate expression that we had. :D And as there were two local soccer teams that also won their matches today, the only safe quiet places to drink in Edinburgh tonight will be the gay bars.