True to his West-of-Scotland roots, Under The Counter is all about the fitbaw. Purely in a non-participatory capacity, of course.
He hasn’t kicked a ball in anger since his neighbours carelessly lobbed a Mitre Five over the fence and upended an alfresco glass of Tennent’s the Auld Boy was enjoying in his back garden. UTC still maintains he didn’t mean to furiously skelp said ball onto an adjacent railway line instead of back next door.
He can take or leave other sports, apart from horseracing. He is not, by any means, a basketball fan. The nearest he gets to a hoop is when he dons his red-and-white-hooped Hamilton Academicals scarf.
The Auld Boy did, however, follow the progress of the wonderfully named Denver Nuggets as the team finally managed to win what UTC assumes is basketball’s equivalent of the Champions League, the NBA Finals, thus ending 56 years of hurt.
This brought a tear to the curmudgeon-in-chief’s jaded old eye because, as a long-suffering Accies fan, Under The Counter knows what it is like to watch a team of nuggets for more than half a century and have nothing to show for it.
