Buongiorno
In an effort to scratch beneath the surface of the World Cup winners, Broadfoot on Monday felt compelled to follow the progress of Scotland's last remaining obstacle from the Azzurri's training camp in Coverciano, Florence.

This week, I will be mingling with the locals, speaking to Italian football stars from past and present, and interviewing some rubbish ones with the most tenuous of links to Scottish football, too. Two teams, only one guaranteed a place in the Euro 2008 finals by the end of Group B qualification a week on Wednesday.

Scotland may have cause to fear Gigi Buffon, Fabio Cannavaro, Rino Gattuso, Luca Toni et al - but Roberto Donadoni, the Italy manager, can sniff at Christian Dailly, Stephen Pearson and Graham Alexander at his peril.

This is not just an international football match. This is an S&M international football match. Scotland and Italy have a long history of mutual prosperity but who can justifiably claim to be the superior nation? What follows is a painstakingly researched socio-political tale of the tape.

Cue "let's get ready to rumble" ring announcer Michael Buffer.

Hard men
Italy, or rather Hollywood, has given us Don Vito Corleone. In Scotland, the Godfather is simply the first-choice baby sitter when Big Mad Marty and Chantelle feel like a night out in the Motherwell Mega Bar.

The Italian/American alliance has, of course, spawned John King of New York' Gotti and Al Capone. But neither had worked in Mario's fish and chicken bar before turning their hand to organised crime.

Donnie Brasco was based on the FBI agent who successfully infiltrated one of the notorious Five Gangs of New York, the Bonannos. Detective Inspector John Rebus has successfully infiltrated the national psyche without once uttering the words thure's bin a murdur'.

Where Italy invented the gelati, Glasgow gave the world the Ice Cream Wars. Verdict: 10-10

Fashion
A no-contest. Italy has adorned the world's beautiful people with the finest of threads courtesy of Versace, Cavalli, Gucci and Armani. Scotland's sub-species have declared allegiance to Burberry; right down to the shoes on the feet of poor wee Paris-Britney McGonigle.

Scotland has at least produced Stella McCartney. Well, she was conceived on the Mull of Kintyre . . . Verdict 8-10

Music
Puleeease. Almost worthy of a win in itself. Where to start: Italy is still in mourning for the big guy who sang about his beloved Japanese car, Nissan Dorma, and who had to be protected from the sunlight in case the Cherry Blossom dribbled down from his eyebrows. They also produced Joe Dolci. A spoof singer? Shaddap You Face.

Italy can lay an ancestral claim on Paolo Nutini but Scotland is now the official indie/rock capital of the world thanks to Franz Ferdinand (no, not the Archduke), The Fratellis and The View.

One-point retrospective deduction for Sheena Easton.

Verdict 9-8

Food and drink
Two nations of wine lovers with starkly contrasting palates. Many an 80s child in Scotland was brought into the world after an over-indulgence in Asti Spumante, while Lambrini has since become the Sengas' vino of choice. Forget your Sangiovese, the Italians have yet to savour the unique delights of a vintage Buckfast.

Pasta and pizza may be a staple diet in both countries (deep-fry optional) but you try asking Gordon Ramsay to go rustle-up a spaghetti carbonara, pronto. Whisper it, but the Scots do Italian cuisine better. Verdict 10-9

Supermodels
After extensive research, results are inconclusive. Monica Belluci, Bianca Balti and Mariacarla Boscono top the tried and trusted google search but judge for yourselves . . . Scotland don't do supermodels, unless you count the glamorous stick-insect, Kirsty Hume. They do, however, specialise in an impressive procession of Miss Scotlands, up to, but not including, the equine Nieve Jennings. Where art thou Lois Weatherup . . . ? Verdict 9-10

Politics
Mussolini famously got the trains running on time. Alex Fergusson failed to distinguish ball No.2 from ball No.3 in the CIS Insurance Cup semi-final draw. Where Italy are taunted for their reverse gear in times of conflict, Dr John Reid initiated automatic pilot mode when George Bush decided to obliterate them pesky Iraqistanis. Verdict 10-9 . . . Result: home win.

And another thing . . .
Let's give ourselves a pat on the back. After years of hard work, and no shortage of taxpayers' money, Glasgow was officially announced as the host nation for the Commonwealth Games in 2014.

In scenes reminiscent of Glesga being named City of Cultcha' back in 1990, everybody who's everybody did their level best to embarrass themselves live on telly. Now for the rub: are the Commonwealth Games not a sporting anachronism? Can you, hand-on-heart, recall your favourite Commonwealth Games moment this past decade? Liar. Since the Gigi Buffon competition proved so popular, a free scoop of Gino Ginelli ice cream for the most entertaining email on the best use for a velodrome in the East End when the big top o' fun packs up . . .

And finally . . .
Well, what a response. Friends, family and chancers using umpteen different names with the same address. Nice try. The winner of Gianluigi Buffon's signed gloves is Neil Speirs from Ayrshire. To collect your prize, simply log-on to eBay . . . I mean, er, gloves are in the post.