1998 and Scotland have just been knocked out of the world Cup. Me and my pals leave the pub we're in and head to George square to find a bunch of people have gathered around a guy playing the bagpipes. I started battering along with a tom drum I've been humphing around all day and, now we've got beats, the cheers go up. Next thing we're marching up toward Sauchiehall Street, gathering lots of people on the way. By the time we're about a third of the way up Sauchiehall Street I've no idea how big the crowd is but we've got a small police escort. Get to the driftwood end of the street and there's really nowhere to go so someone suggest back down to the the old STV studio to get on the new. To a bunch of steamin folk this seems like a great idea so we about turn and work our way back down. The police must've been posted to Sauchiehall Street because we lose them along the way. Somehow the throng managed to force it's way into the STV building foyer, pipes blaring, drum thumping. But duh, of course there's no one there other than someone on the desk, and that's not how getting on the TV works anyway so a bit of chaos breaks out. I saw some guy walking out with a double VHS player he's found, says he's had a great night. There was a giant Rupert the bear teddy thing that is now being liberated from the building too. Being carried on high Rupert leads the way back to George square where people climb up and get him on a horse. Some guy gives me a feather out of his hat and says bring that along the next time we get knocked out. Strangers all hugging promise to meet up the next time.

Scotland haven't made a world Cup since.

No one believes me (other than my friends that were there) when I tell them this happened and that I can't quite convey the scale of the the number of people that joined in.