Three football games, three different experiences. One common thread...
Game one
The opening game of Euro 2024. Scotland are playing Germany! The Germans are not the force they used to be, and Scotland qualified for the tournament with two games to spare. We beat Spain in the qualifiers FFS! OK, so we haven't won a game for months (except against the part-timers of Gibraltar) and have lost to Northern Ireland and taken a spanking off the Netherlands. But this run of bad form has to end some time. Maybe we are just planning to peak at the right time? There can be no greater incentive than the opening game against the hosts to put on our best performance.
My sister wants to be together to watch the first game, and I invite my oldest friend over. My neighbour across the way has built a party shed in his back garden, and has invited us over. There's a new song that's gone viral, No Scotland, No Party, and we dance to that.
Memories of tournaments past crowd in. The dirty bastards Uruguay in Mexico '86. Listening on a car radio in the Highlands to an inspired display against Sweden in Italia '90. Cheering on England in 1996 to get a result against the Netherlands that would let Scotland through to the quarter finals.
It's all going great... until the game starts... 5-1 Germany. A horrendous, headless display by Scotland. A defeat was expected, but not one of this magnitude! Oh well. Two more games to go. A draw in the second game will still give us hope...
Game two
It's a beautiful evening and I've been up the Pentlands with a friend and my dog Skye. We are down just in time to watch Scotland v Switzerland in the Flotterstone Inn. There are two other customers, neither that bothered by the football. I eat crisps and have an alcohol-free beer. Scotland score! But then so do Switerland. The dog gets restless. I take her outside. Back in the pub, it seems this is a game Scotland could win; it ends in a draw. But that's enough. We have that thread of hope to take into the final game...
Game three
Another friend, another hill, this time in Glencoe. It's turned out to be a glorious day, and we head to the Clachaig for food and telly - except they don't have a telly! A dog-loving Australian woman gives Skye a piece of her steak, and we hunt for the nearest pub with a TV - which turns out to be a place called The Gathering. We've missed the first fifteen minutes of Scotland v Hungary, but nothing really happens in the game until the last few minutes, Scotland playing like they have been specifically coached not to try to win this must-win game. We are sitting next to three young foreign women, and I have to keep Skye on a close leash because she keeps wanting to go over and say hello to them, despite them making it clear they don't like dogs. Skye has finally had enough and doesn't want to be here. I am bored with the football and on edge with the dog. My friend is spending more time looking at his mobile phone than watching the match. This is shite. This is Scotland. With ten minutes to go, Scotland suddenly burst into life attempting to win the game, which leaves them open to counter-attack. Hungary duly take advantage and score the game's only goal, ten minutes into extra time, leaving Scotland with one point from three games and the worst record of any team in the tournament.
Euro '24 has been one of the most deflating ever experiences of watching Scotland, and I've been deflated more often than the Argentine economy. Post-tournament analysis flies thick and fast, but when the dust settles, there's another season and another campaign.
There's always next time...
