Memories of watching the great Dundee United team of the 1980s. The glory days will surely come again!

Some members of the band refused to participate, believing a song about a football team that isn’t Real Madrid, Barcelona, Manchester United or Chelsea to be beneath their dignity. As a Chelsea supporter, Gene Poole-Skimmings long ago lost any semblance of a soul, so his refusal to play piano was to be expected. Beau Strokes refused to play fiddle unless we agreed to do a song about what he calls “real football,” by which he means the American variety, a sport with about as much soul as Gene Poole Skimmings. Undeterred, Dee, Aldo, Kit and I sat down and recorded the song in the living room of Dee’s granny’s house in Broughty Ferry. A big thanks to the ladies of her bridge club for keeping quiet while we were recording. Those evenings can get pretty rowdy.

Dee is that rare beast, a St. Mirren fan, so he insisted on the reference to the Buddies Scottish Cup win in 1987, which he enjoyed almost as much as the match itself, which, needless to say, I didn’t enjoy at all.


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