Tonight, I tried multi-multi-tasking.
First, and undoubtedly most aesthetically pleasing, I set off to watch Barcelona. Played at its very best, nothing, nothing is more beautiful than football. Faced with the imminent end of the World and with but a few hours to go, who would swap listening to La Traviata, reading Tess of the D'Urbervilles or watching The Godfather for the chance to see, one last time, the 1970 World Cup Final. Or France against Portugal in '84 or indeed this Barcelona team at any time. A thing of beauty is a joy forever.
Secondly however, I tried to follow events in Dingwall where Saints were playing Ross County in the Cup. I suspect the football did not quite match up in quality to that produced by the Catalans and it's a hell of a long way to Dingwall at any time, let alone midweek in February, but 169 dedicated Buds did so nonetheless. I am now ashamed not to be in the company of that band of brothers (some women among them). I salute their courage, their fortitude, their indefatigability. Safe journey home.
It is impossible to explain why this is, even when it's ugly, the beautiful game, but it is. And yet there is little more ugly than the rivalry between Rangers and Celtic.
It would be great if Scottish Football was like all-Ireland Hurling or English Cricket; organised on a County basis, with your loyalty predetermined by the place of your birth, or at least the place of your residence. And, indeed, for many of us, from Paisley, or Motherwell, or Dunfermline or even Dingwall, Scottish Football is.
But, for good or ill, well actually overwhelmingly for ill, Scottish football also has a tribal element.
Now, entire books have been written on how that has come about. I do not propose to attempt to precis them here.
And that tribalism pervades almost every aspect of Scottish life, not least politics. Historically, my Party has been associated with Celtic, despite notable exceptions like Andy Kerr or Brian Donohoe. And the Parties of the Right, despite equally notable exceptions like Roseanna Cunningham or.......(I'm struggling here), have been associated with Rangers.
Now, when one or other of these institutions gets into difficulty about which politicians might have a legitimate view, that causes difficulty.
When Rab C Nesbitt famously described Jim Sillars as "the Hun in the Sun", everybody understood the joke. But when Nicola Sturgeon issues a mealy mouthed regret about the potential demise of a major employer in her constituency everybody also understands her difficulty.
Particularly if that demise is as a result of failure to meet the tax obligations incumbent, personally and sportingly, on the rest of us.
BUT. Senior Scottish Football is kept (just) alive by television money. Much as we all would wish that there was a worldwide television audience for St Mirren v Motherwell, there simply is not. There is not even much of an audience for St Mirren v Rangers or indeed Motherwell v Celtic. The interest, and the money, is in Rangers v Celtic.
And that money ends up in all of our pockets; St Mirren and Motherwell not least. And Celtic above all.
So, tonight, Margaret Curran can appeal to HMRC to have an eye to the wider picture. But the First Minister is on the horns of a dilemma. And silent.
Express support for Rangers and he not only places himself on the side of tax dodging wide boys but he also risks the loss of the long solicited "Celtic" vote. But wash his hands of Rangers and he concedes that never mind Scotland being able to run an Independent economy, we can't even run a viable Football League.
To govern is to choose. Time for Eck to make that choice. And for the press not to allow him to avoid the difficult answer with a chuckle.