Party Time…?

Date: 16th June 2024

And so, as I sit to write this Scotland have graced the Euros with a display that many are going to equate with the opening game against Costa Rica more than the opening game against Brazil. It felt for some a little like 1978, more than 1974.

Home before the postcards has become a possibility.

The fan zones across the country, the Irn Bru adverts, the fact that Steve Clarke dared to suggest we should smile…

And whit?

We came, we saw, we got pure humped.

Having beat Spain in Hampden and Norway away – after going behind – we deserved to feel that we could do a number on what is one of the most sublime German sides in recent years. OK, we could have done with facing them in the third game when they had already qualified and were resting a few players but that could have been one of those do or die, need to get a result from the best in the group games we are helplessly guilty of setting up time after time after time after…

Instead, we got the dressing down for daring to dream early on.

The young shall shake their heads in agony and feel it. The middle aged shall bemoan like Karens in a queue at Waitrose over the journey being one they never believed in, and the elder states people shall refuse to give in.

The truth is. We have been here before.

First game – cynics believe our tournament is done.

But it isnae.

Let’s be clear, it is closer to the exit door than when we came in the entrance, but the path is not clear. We can still make it. Whether it was the final game against Norway, or the McCoist goal against Switzerland or that Archie Gemmel goal against Holland, we are the masters of setting up a do or die scenario.

We may have changed as a team under Steve Clarke, but we have not changed as a nation who loves their fitba.

And so, we face a Swiss side who will hit headlines like clockwork if they do a number on us – we can expect plenty of chocolate and cheese puns no matter the result.

But then after a fierce examination of what we do against the Swiss, we go into the final game and hopefully have a chance. The Hungarians have not lost since sometime in the distant past and so we shall have a “mountain to climb” and there shall be some doom laded prophet telling us, once again, we are too fragile, naïve and lacking a cutting edge. The tactics shall have been wrong, young players froze on the world stage… and so it shall go on.

And then the questions over Steve Clarke.

Clearly able to get us into a decent position but unable to get us to the next level, someone will think themselves clever by suggesting Clarke should go. Like a manager who gets his team out

of the Championship and into the Premier League, there shall be people calling for his dismissal because his level is the level below what the fans expect.

Graeme Souness once wisely said of our previous qualifications that perhaps Scotland’s World Cup WAS qualifying. Anything beyond that was a bonus. I get what he means, but I, for one, don’t agree.

Germany might go on and win this. Their preparation suggested a gelling of a side ready to peak at just the right time. Our preparation suggested we need more competitive games to show what we are all about. Playing quality sides like France was meant to prepare us for Germany – I think. We might need to rethink that. Playing Gibraltar and Finland might be preparing us for the morale boost which should last until Hungary – that remains untested.

But what does not remain untested is Scotland’s unnerving ability to take things to a wire. Having gained qualification early, we fell apart as we simply did not recognise what was happening. Where was the cliff edge final game? We needed to have some form of horror show early and depend upon a penalty shoot out to get to the big tournament. That simply did not happen and we couldnae cope.

Now this is familiar territory, and wise heads shall see it.

Character is called for. Fans shall spend a day or two watching other sides shine and shocks being predicted whilst they have another beer and another interview with bagpipes playing. We shall still come down any road to support and be there in number to outshine ANY fans group. The Tartan Army is more than in town – it is taking over your city. And if we fall out, it shall be amongst ourselves as we famously love to argue over the joy and despair of following our national team.

Soon, we shall have English pundits to rail at. A unifying force in anyone’s language, they shall help us recover. But recover, we shall.

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Tags: Scotland