Miami romance, Billy Gilmour and a mince and tattie hot dog

Love can be found in the most obscure ways.

Romance may spark over a couple of nervous swipes on an app, or perhaps even an old-fashioned shy glance across a crowded bar.

According to Rihanna, it also can be discovered if you hunt hard enough in a hopeless place.

But on a humid summer evening in southern Florida, Cupid's arrows were flying faster than a Hank Aaron swing in the unlikely romantic setting of the third floor concourse of LoanDepot Park, somewhere near the fried chicken stall.

Amid the cacophony of "We've Got McGinn..." booming through the marching crowd at Miami Marlins v Texas Rangers, one lady smiled while holding a sign at her target audience as they engulfed her.

"Looking for a Scot" was the simple message etched next to a saltire and a Cuban flag with a kiss. It worked instantly.

The fact she snagged a cuddle off a passing and opportunistic Tartan Army foot soldier shows the direct approach sometimes works.

Whether he remembers it until he reads this is another thing.

While not everyone in the US has gone to the trouble of scrawling their love for the Tartan Army on a bit of cardboard, the warmth towards the invading Scots during this World Cup burns hotter than the searing Florida sun.

Here, it was another city, another ball game featuring the Texas Rangers, another invasion and another iconic night of rampant revelry.

Years of relentless school games of rounders are being put to extremely good use by the Scotland support, who bounced into their second ball game in a little over a week.

This time the iconic and antique bleachers of Fenway Park in Boston were swapped for this domed colosseum in the heart of downtown Miami.

Outside, Nick Morgan played his anthem "No Scotland No Party" on stage to thousands of Scots in a blurry sea of bedlam and perspiration.

Inside, the star of the mercifully air-conditioned show wasn't giant mascot Billy the Marlin. It was wee Billy the Scot.

The Tartan Army, who helped swell the crowd to 20,008 - the biggest Monday night gathering under this roof since 2017 - rose to their feet pre-match as Billy Gilmour emerged from the side of the field.

With a brace around his knee and a Marlins top around his chest, the injured Scotland and Napoli midfielder slowly hobbled to the mound, took his time, then hurled the ceremonial first pitch.

It was met with the gusto and celebration normally reserved for a statue being crowned with an orange traffic cone. Oor Billy grinned from ear to ear as he waved back to the crowd before hobbling back off.

A cynic would say this is an opportunity to cash in on a captive audience rolling into town after seeing the Fenway love-in. And yes, there's an undoubted benefit to the footfall and the beer sales which flow with it.

But, just like at the Red Sox, this felt like a unique experience. Another baseball match, but a wholly different snapshot of a once-in-a-lifetime trip - filled with football, friends, foot-long hot dogs and dodgy first-base runs.

This was a night at the ball park to be cherished in years to come.

So much effort had gone into ramping up the experience.

We had a tartan menu in the food kiosk. A man with a Dundee United tattoo on his leg told of how his mince and tattie hot dog was a nine out of 10, but not quite as good as the football at Tannadice. There's no accounting for taste.

DJ CP, a lovely fella plonked at the far side of the arena in charge of the tunes with a Scotland flag flung around his shoulders, explained how he was excited at playing "Bits and pieces" for the crowd, as well as the Beatles.

Even one home fan told of how she'd moved her season ticket seat for the night to the Scotland section. She had also brought along mini traffic cone trinkets to hand out.

As the sun faded through the giant glass wall behind the Home Run Harbour and the ice cream stall, the soaring Miami skyline dimming with it, the Scots ramped up the atmosphere.

At the bottom of the sixth the St Andrews Pipe Band of Miami, surrounded by a sea of phones and selfie sticks, bellowed so loudly that the noise of a Marlins run was barely audible behind them.

By the bottom of the eighth a thumping swing shot cranked through the air like that cupid's arrow, bringing Miami back to within one of the Rangers.

Scotland fans were on their feet celebrating. Some of them even on purpose.

Going into the final inning the Proclaimers was the choice from Mr CP to rouse the Marlins to victory.

Alas, it ended in another defeat as the Tartan Army drifted out of LoanDepot Park having now watched more wins for Rangers at this World Cup than Scotland. It's a strange time.

There is still time for that to change and, on the most remarkable of trips, there was the odd moment of serendipity that could be seen as a good omen.

Stephen McGinn, brother of Scotland hero John, caught an errant baseball as it scudded off a bat and rebounded off a metal railing and straight into his grasp.

Another city. Another ballpark. Another Tartan Army love-in.

Scotland's final Group C game against Brazil on Wednesday may go a long way to deciding if this holiday romance has another chapter.