ONE brief trip to the former Eastern Bloc and Podium has nailed this whole Referendum debate. Or perhaps not.

At the very least the Hungarians of Budapest appeared to be enraptured at the prospect of their first European footballing adventure since 1972, a year which would prove monumental for continental integration.

But that was only because the Mighty Magyars managed to put one over their old empirical partners, overcoming Austria 2-0, then squeaked a late draw with Iceland.

Thousands thronged public parks and squares, to catch a glimpse of their heroes on giant screens, and scoff and quaff the outpourings from sponsors Lidl (in such mass gatherings that Brit football fans would never be trusted.) Why would any spendthrift international traveller want to put such cost-effective summer jaunts in jeopardy simply by checking out of the Brussels love-in?

I'm afraid, despite weeks and months of close analysis, that is the limit of your scribe's interest.

If I've not driven home this column's stark indifference to the entire Euro fiasco, let's lay it on the line once more.

Whether the well-meaning but wasteful mob in Brussels float your boat, or the John Bull blaggarts of the Leave camp light your fire (and burn up any last remaining employment rights) is a matter for individual consciences.

But I'm still wondering quite why - across large parts of the north if not necessarily Warrington - libraries, museums and community centres are in mortal peril.

In a G7 nation. In 2016. When only one of George Osborne's banking buddies qualified for a spell at Her Majesty's Pleasure, after crash-diving the economy a short while ago.

(And don't you believe that UK PLC will be converted into the Land of Milk and Honey if we claw back billions from those pesky Eurocrats. Not when there's tax bribes for the Chancellor to dispense to kindred Establishment types. You might also, on the flip side, want to question why the JP Morgans, Goldman Sachs and other financial powerhouses have bankrolled the Remain camp.) Perhaps you might have guessed, but I'm a reluctant 'Remainer', who nevertheless would not castigate any cogently argued case for departure.

The Hungarians, like our good selves, appear very much unsold on the question of adopting the Euro, 12 years on from their accession.

  •  However you choose to vote in today's referendum, amid the events of a tumultuous and unprecedented week on the national stage, I hope the (alleged) events surrounding the death of Jo Cox have little impact on the decision at large.

Not because Cox was an ardent Remain campaigner and consistently lobbied as such, or the supposed ideological leanings of her constituent attacker, currently being held on suspicion of her murder.

But because, no matter how invidious and shallow the entire campaign has been, I still ultimately find it ardous to marry any civilised 'Brexit' supporter with so heinous an attack on our democracy.

  •  No-one is ever going to pay good money for 'The Making of....Podium', as a DVD extra or otherwise.

This week's effort though was penned against the backdrop of yet another frustrating England performance, versus Slovakia, as Roy Hodgson's well-recompensed boys again flatter to deceive, allowing the Welsh to steal in and top the group.

But the soundtrack, alternating between God Save The Queen and the Colonel Bogey March? Sheer nerve-shredding torture.

Luckily with a name like Magill - and a tenous claim for kinship - I can at least revel in Northern Ireland's glorious finals crusade. Though as an ex-colleague, and Green and White Army veteran, has acknowledged, the Ukraine win could well be as good as it ever gets for the plucky Ulstermen.