This permanently-sozzled Scottish football manager is a fine character, a six-times married star of Sixties soccer, with a catalogue of outrageous anecdotes about his highly controversial private life and always a stern word about the exponents of today's game.

Wisely, he chose to play down any too-specific footballing references when performing to a lay crowd, restricting himself to such universal touchstones as David Beckham or the 1966 World Cup final, defined as the worst moment in Scottish history.

It's not the most exacting of material, but it is well-executed. One segment, for instance, takes us to Amsterdam ­ as if this was the only place in the world anyone ever smoked dope ­ and covers much familiar ground, only to end with a gem of a punchline out of left field, if that's a footballing term.