There was something strangely compelling about a Japanese guy with lamb-chop sideburns and a voice so shrill you could be forgiven for thinking his testicles were wired to the national grid.

Ah bet she’s a dirty wee minx in the scratcher. Y’see that “butter wouldnae melt” expression she’s goat goin on? That’s jist a smokescreen – ah guarantee she goes like a train.’ Jimmy belched, considerately...

Jimmy was in a league of his own when it came to puerile, half-pissed badinage.

The old agility was still present and the passion was undeniable, but it was the wobbling of the gut, the puffing of the cheeks and the profuse sweating that lent the performance its true magic.