Charles Bronson on the Kilmarnock to Barrhead train.

This is terrible. I think I am going mental.

Have you ever travelled by train from Kilmarnock to Barrhead on a Saturday evening after a Celtic v Kilmarnock game?

I did tonight.

There was this really ugly guy in my carriage wearing an Eire strip (you know the eircom one that Celtic shops sell) and as soon as I saw him I thought "I hate you".

Irrational, I know, but then I'm irrational.

Within a minute I knew why I thought he was ugly and why I hated him.

"STANTS, STANTS, We hate protestants" he sang.

"I, I, I-R-A" he chanted.

He started mimicking a sniper and selecting his victims. The guard - for checking tickets. An old woman - for wearing an orange sun top.

This is terrible but it was at this time that I wanted to be Charles Bronson and blow this wanker away.

I rationalised that I'd be doing society a favour and fantasised about getting him on his own, putting my magnum to his head and pulling the trigger.

OK, Celtic would lose a season ticket holder, but I reckoned that with 11,500 on the waiting list it would be easy to find another cunt.