HER name was Jane, and she wasn’t plain, but as a public relations person from London, she bit off a lot more than she could chew on her first solo visit to Murrayfield.

Jane’s boyfriend played for a big English club and nice chap that he was, he took Jane with him when England came to Edinburgh for that year’s Calcutta Cup match.

Except that he only had one ticket for the old west stand, so Jane ‘volunteered’ to go with a Scottish friend to the terracing while the boyfriend went off with his club mates.

The Scottish friend looked after Jane well, and even took her to the Diggers, until the match started when they found themselves surrounded by the staunch men of Stonehaven rugby club.

Possibly a mite tipsy, Jane announced that she was so confident of English victory that she would give all the Stonehaven guys around her a kiss “if Scotland ever score a try.”

Came the reply in broad Doric: “Eh’s sat effery try or jist yin?”

“All of them,” said Jane, “because you’re not going to get any!”

What makes this story very funny is that the year was 1986, the date was February 15, and no Scotland fan will need reminding that on that day 30 years ago, the men in dark blue ran riot, scoring three tries in a 33-6 victory.

Dear Jane kept her word and as Matt Duncan, John Rutherford and Scott Hastings crossed the line, she snogged every man in a Stonehaven shirt or tie, and her Scottish friend is sure he saw some other guys borrowing a Stonehaven jersey to join in the fun.

Scott’s try came five minutes or so into injury time, just when Jane was begging the ref to “blow your bloody whistle!”

No such luck for her, and after the final snogfest, Jane turned to her Scottish friend and said: “My lips are frazzled!”

The Rucker knows this is a true Five or Six Nations story, because he was that Scottish friend…

Another funny story came from May Kelly: “As a young teacher in the early 70s I was in a group of staff and pupils from Alva Academy who stood in misery on the terracing at Murrayfield as Scotland were being hammered by a rampant XV from Ireland.

At half-time, frustrated opinions regarding the shortcomings of the hapless Scots were coming thick and fast.

One possible explanation intrigued us.

“It’s aw they Gauly (Gala) men in the team,” bellowed an elderly chap standing behind me. “They’re feart fur the green jerseys o’ Hawick!”

Spoken like a true Teri.

The criticism of Irish referees George Clancy and John Lacey continues, with Robert Fergus making a good point: “England and France are never refereed by someone who takes charge of their league games, whereas the four other countries do and as we can see from the aforementioned duo they come with preconceived ideas about the folk they regularly referee.”