When Belarus improbably came to Scotland’s rescue on Saturday evening, it got me thinking. Is that what this means?
I’ve never been one to be overly romantic about football storylines, scripts or fortunes, but luck has been on Scotland’s side this campaign and some Scotland fans may feel it was long overdue.
Until Saturday, Belarus had yet to register a point in qualifying, and Denmark had already beaten Belarus 6-0 a month earlier.
Any suggestion that Danes could commit blunders at home was laughed off and never seriously considered.
Yet here we are. Scotland are 90 minutes from the World Cup and dare I say they aren’t even at their best.
They struggled in both games against bottom-seeded Belarus, lost twice to Greece, and only had one shot on target in their first match against Denmark.
But somehow the point is in the bag and that’s all that really matters.
Scotland’s vigorous bid to qualify since their appearance at the World Cup in 1998 has added to the country’s never-ending list of ‘glorious failures’. International football’s regulars have a long-standing reputation for raising expectations, but it crumbles just when success seems all but inevitable.
Peru, Iran, Morocco, Faroe Islands, Georgia, etc. It’s enough to send a shiver down a Scotsman’s spine.
But this time it feels different. There is no glory or failure yet.
Perhaps my paranoia stems from years of damage caused by following my homeland, or maybe there’s something there.
Is this really written in the stars?
Steve Clarke responded in the pre-match press conference: “People can speculate or think that there are other organizations that will take care of us, but we have to take care of ourselves.”
The answer should come as no surprise from a head coach who approaches the eve of a World Cup qualifying match with exactly the same attitude he had in a meaningless friendly.
Unperturbed, emotionless, or as we journalists would say, boring.
But it’s to his credit and he will never allow the hysteria around the national team to affect him or his team, for better or worse.
So there’s no way he’s going to put his trust in fate or some kind of divine favor that will make up for decades of heartbreak.
But I’m no Steve Clark, so let me dream if I can.
Scotland is doomed to do so, if at all, so let’s just give our people 90 minutes to believe in that fateful day and, if we can, say goodbye to our glorious failure.


