A man carefully balancing a pint of beer makes his way through the concourse at Fenway Park when he is suddenly accosted by a gang of 11 women.“Sir, please can we take a picture with your kilt?” they ask, excitedly.He obliges, although it is not obvious that he had any other choice. The staff of Wareham Elementary School are giddy at the sight of any Scottish regalia. It’s teachers’ night at Fenway.“We agreed that every time we see a man wearing a kilt we have to all take a drink,” says Dianna Semple, who appears to be staying true to her word.Two worlds have collided here in Boston. Teachers in caps adorned with pencils and hot dogs and thousands of Scots in jimmy hats. Strangers greeting each other at the mere sight of tartan or the salmon pink Scotland away shirt, which has broken all previous sales records.That genial spirit has been present all week since the Tartan Army took over large swathes of the city and turned landmark venues into base camps. Fenway has become the most iconic with Sunday witnessing a 5,000-strong bagpipe march all the way to the stadium.The Tartan Army marches on Fenway (Jessica Rinaldi/The Boston Globe via Getty Images)“It’s the most fun I’ve ever had in my life,”says Ed, 67, a retired firefighter working as a part-time steward who has been attending Fenway since he was in kindergarten.“I told my boss if I never see another game again I’d still be happy. Everyone was shaking hands and high-fiving. It was mayhem but it was amazing.”
No Scotland, no party: Inside the Tartan Army takeover of Boston
From the mass consumption of Irn-Bru to the attempted legalisation of haggis, Scotland fans have made a big impression on Boston










