Brace yourself USA, Mexico and Canada, a kilted World Cup conga is coming your way, powered by the souls of five million Scots. Nights like Tuesday in Glasgow are a reminder of the power of sport to enthral and unite, a nation coalesced around 90 minutes of pure, life-enhancing Scottishness.
Contrast that with the miserable mood hoovers south of the border, who marked another routine qualification to the greatest show on earth debating the conduct of Jude Bellingham and the lack of dynamic content.
Indeed, one organ summoned the shouty squad to send Bellingham to the moon instead of to next summer’s tournament. And that’s probably not far enough for some, who are outraged that a global superstar with diva tendencies might be miffed at being substituted.
Meanwhile concerns about audience drift and a lack of jeopardy for the major powers has thrown Europe’s governing body into a ratings panic and a review of the qualification process, a move that has the FA’s enthusiastic backing.
“I think it’s really important to overhaul it,” FA chief executive Mark Bullingham said “I think we need to keep looking at ways to make international football even better and there’s genuine appetite to do that.”
Bully for him. Would that Scotland might indulge such imperious hauteur. It is almost 30 years since Scotland last qualified for the World Cup at the back end of the last century. Since then, the nation that introduced Brazil to the game via ex-pat Scottish railway workers in the late 19th century have seen their influence diminish as the centre of gravity shifted toward the club game south of Hadrian’s Wall.
Whilst the all-powerful English gorged on the rise of the Premier League, club success in Europe and the restoration of England as an international heavyweight, Scotland and their home nation counterparts and the Republic of Ireland fell into what felt like irreversible decay.
And then lo, Troy Parrott broke the internet on Sunday with the last kick of the match in Hungary to secure a qualifying play-off spot having last contested a World Cup 23 years ago. Northern Ireland had already qualified for the play-offs via victory last year in the Nations League group.
And then came the effusions in Glasgow and Cardiff. Wales put seven past North Macedonia on a night described as near perfect by manager Craig Bellamy to enter the play-off process. No tight rope walks for Scotland, who contrived the most memorable 90 minutes in a generation to swell Scottish hearts to bursting.
If Carlsberg brewed euphoria it might taste something like the elixir swilling about Hampden Park, where Scots from every corner of the country had gathered to invoke the spirit of Ally’s Tartan Army and belt out “Flower of Scotland” like it was 1978. Those without tickets convened through the ether to glory in the Saltire and celebrate the kind of wholesome, unfettered, value-free nationhood only sport can foster in peace time.
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