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Beggars can’t be choosers when it comes to true blood and the Scotland shirt

It may be squeamishness on my part, but people who go on about “true” Scots always have me wondering if their favourite shirt isn’t a nice brown number.

When they stress the importance of “blood” my inner Groucho, the one who wouldn’t want to join that club if those are the members, emerges.

The politics of ethnic purity is a dirty business.