IT is questionable why any Scotsman would venture outside in 27 degrees of searing Italian sunshine.

Proceeding to slug neat whisky from a bottle while sitting atop a roofless bus the day before meeting the Pope represents a whole new level of judgement.

Scott McTominay’s hands were probably shaking with more than nerves as he stood to meet Leo XIV while nursing a biblical hangover.

But as a young man with the world at his feet and a Serie A winner’s medal round his neck, Scottish football’s new Messiah can do whatever he likes.

And besides, daft decisions have been following him around for some time.

Not least the one by his former club Manchester United, who thought it great business to flog him to Napoli for £25million last summer, having rejected a bid of £30m from West Ham because it was not enough.

Not exactly Dragon’s Den or The Apprentice.

Presumably, it was considered better to get McTominay out of the way and packed off to a foreign league rather than sell to a direct rival.

Ninety-nine years out of 100, West Ham rival Manchester United in name only.

It’s only because Ruben Amorim’s team has been so spectacularly bad this season in McTominay’s absence that they can see the Hammers from across the lower reaches of the Premier League table.

He was long gone before Ruben Amorim turned up at Old Trafford to try to dig United out of the mess left behind by his  predecessor Erik ten Hag.

A towering presence on the  pitch, McTominay was viewed as a symbol of how far the club had fallen from the rose-tinted days when everyone who wore the shirt was a legend.

Scott McTominay dances with old fan while puffing on cigarette as never-ending Napoli title party continues

Despite being 6ft 3in, McTominay could never look Paul Scholes, Roy Keane, Paul Ince or Bryan Robson in the eye.

Maybe not, but he has scored more goals this term than Rasmus Hojlund —  United’s £72m striker.

He also scored on the final day for Napoli, who won the Scudetto by a solitary point.

McTominay’s sale was dressed up as a financial necessity to keep the bean counters at the Premier League off United’s backs.

Yet the £42m splashed out on his replacement Manuel Ugarte doesn’t look like the best trade off.

The Uruguayan amassed 15 bookings in his debut campaign and two goals, at least repaying some of his transfer fee in club fines.

But if you want a heartfelt verdict on whether it was a wise move letting McTominay slip away, just ask former United boss Ole Gunnar Solskjaer.

He described the call to sell him as ‘beyond me’ — which for a Norwegian nice guy equates to verbal GBH.

McTominay suffered the curse of the academy kid. Fans and bosses alike expected too much from him.

There were doubts about his all-round game, which seemed surprising because he always looked the part. Though born in Lancaster and raised in United’s academy, there is a ‘Scottishness’ about him.

The firm brow, deep-set eyes and angular jawline makes for a formidable face when he sports that scary buzz cut.

The look of someone who can handle himself.

Guzzling warm scotch on a hot day and chain- smoking only adds to McTominay’s aura, now backed up by a serious achievement on the pitch.

His colourful behaviour on the trophy parade after Napoli’s title triumph might not be the most sophisticated advert for modern football. But it can’t all be about broccoli and cryo-chambers can it?

McTominay was voted Serie A’s MVP.

Some in football know the price of everything and the value of nothing.

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