Own goals scored by Blatter and Platini put me in mind of bankers
Yesterday morning the McWilliams's kitchen table resembled a mini war room. My son and I spread out a huge map of France before us and tried to figure out Paris to Bordeaux in a camper van. We'd been up in Belfast over the weekend and had tried to coax our Nordie family to come with us on a unique united Ireland family football convoy next June.
But even they, proper Prods to a man, scoffed at the idea of exposing their kids to what they called the "Crazy Prods" who follow "Norn Irn". After a heated discussion on the difference between reasonable Prods and crazy Prods, the idea was dropped.
So we, the Southerners, are going on our own.