By Stewart Weir
I recall the World Cup of 1998 as if it were yesterday. Facing Brazil in the opening game, the colourful opening ceremony, Dario G’s Carnival de Paris, Tom Boyd’s own goal Craig Burley’s toothless grin as he gave us hope in Bordeaux, and the somewhat ignominious loss to Morocco.
I also remember vividly the joyous night in Paris before we kicked off the greatest show on earth, our delight when we found the waiter in the best restaurant in Avignon had served his time in Dundee, the Red Zone nightclub, the pub where the landlord purchased giant German steins because we had complained about how many trips to the bar we had to make, and the Asian restaurant (I think it was Vietnamese) where my good friend on many a foreign escapade, Fraser Mackie (now of the Mail on Sunday) found a microphone (wired to a public address system that may have come courtesy of German occupation) and proceeded to converse with some of the locals (many of whom had previously been asleep) in his best French.
Happy days – even happier that Mirror Group Newspapers footed the bill for such enjoyment. The reason why I look back so fondly on that summer is because there has been nothing, in football terms, to interrupt that clarity.
That was the last time Scotland made the finals of any major competition. Not that you could have suspected it going by the various tweets, comments, postings, messages and soundbites I picked up on Saturday evening.
“Not bad,” said Nicola Sturgeon. Based on what I wondered?
The draw for the qualifying sections for the 2014 World Cup seems to have caused some kind of delirium amongst the Scots population.
I don’t mind a bit of positivity and ambition. But give it a quick mix with some realism as well – which, funnily enough, appeared to happen as people took time to weigh up who we actually had instead of who we’d avoided.
We haven’t qualified for a finals event in the last six attempts. But because we were pulled out with Croatia, Serbia, Belgium, Macedonia and Wales in that stage-managed extravaganza, where Eurovision met the National Lottery, we’ve got a chance of flying down to Rio in three years' time.
In an instant of seeing or hearing the outcome of the draw, a great many Scots used that tried and trusted (and flawed) deduction method, namely that if we haven’t really heard of any of these countries then they must be crap – and, therefore, we must have a right good chance against them.
Some others would have been a bit more calculated, remembering that for 1990 we qualified ahead of Yugoslavia, and if we could beat all of Yugoslavia, then surely we can defeat three wee bits of it – on this occasion Croatia, Serbia and Macedonia.
Wales? Well, turning a blind eye to a couple of dubious spot-kick decisions that may have assisted Scotland, the Welsh have been truly woeful in World Cup campaigns since 1958 (carefully ignoring any drubbings inflicted in alleged "friendly" matches in the not too distant past). And as for Belgium, well, Taggart is better than Poirot, and our brave laddies saved them from the tyranny of foreign aggressors in a world war or two. So how good can they be?
All of the above illustrates why we are still a force to be reckoned with in world soccer. So Brazil, here we come.
But it won’t be that easy, even if there are thousands who reckon this was a "good draw". Whatever you think of ratings, rankings and league tables, it wasn’t by chance that Scotland emerged from Pot 4 in the European draw. It was because of missed chances when qualifying looked like a shoo-in. Norway anyone?
Wasn’t it also going to be oh so simple in 2000 and 2001, when Croatia and Belgium soundly buried our passports for Japan and Korea? I’ll mention it again. Failure since 1998.
But for me, it won’t be easy – not because of how good others may be, but because of who they are.
Regardless of their "name" players, Croatia and Belgium, as I’ve said, we’ve had them not so long ago. Macedonia the same, plus they still sound like something out of a Marx Brothers film. Wales have as many good players as we do (after all, Neil Lennon is chasing another one) while Serbia, even with Vidić, Ivanović or Krasić, are more an annoying itch than a tingle.
This wasn’t a great draw, it wasn’t even a good draw. This was a dull, plain, ordinary draw. And if we don’t get our campaign off and running with a couple of results in the first two matches, try making the other eight games sound appealing.
If we had pulled England, or Spain, or Holland and France, say, and then come third, that might have been expected. Disappointing, but expected. But because we’re all much-of-a-muchness in the eyes of a great many, the disappointment of not qualifying from Group A would be compounded. Third-best to two of those three Balkan nations would be inglorious, just because there ain’t anything glorious about them.
Do I think Scotland can do it? I’d love to be wrong, but I just don’t see it.
Still, I don’t see any harm in gathering up a Portuguese phrase book, just on the off chance…
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