If any Scotland fan found themselves following the same script as me on Tuesday night, they would have made their way home from Hampden giggling away to themselves about what they had just witnessed (after a few tears, of course). Scotland’s national stadium has seen many, many things, but I’m almost positive it has not, and will not ever, see the likes of Tuesday night again.
A return to the workplace in the days that followed had colleagues asking: “You enjoy the match then?”, and I’m still not really sure how to answer such a question.
Had Scott McTominay not scored one of the best goals I’ve ever witnessed, I’d probably have still been a nervous wreck come the halftime whistle. The Ronaldo-esque method of McTominay’s levitating bicycle kick was unfathomable, but I don’t think many were surprised that he, in particular, popped up with a goal on such an occasion.
I’ve been burned before with the hope that comes with Scotland leading a game at Hampden – It’s probably made me the constantly sceptical football fan I am today. Flashbacks of a certain country’s injury-time leveller just minutes after Leigh Griffiths’ double-salvo of free kicks in 2017 raced through the mind when Rasmus Højlund levelled the game from the spot in the 57th minute.
My conscience aired on the side of caution. Anxiousness kept any form of excitement at bay as I knew Scotland would have to find the net again if they had any hope of qualifying. The subsequent Danish red card helped, but I instantly thought: “how sore would it be to not win against ten men…”
That is where the night of vindication started.
Lawrence Shankland had always been a doubt in a Scotland jersey for me. Whilst I don’t question his goal-finding capabilities for club, I had yet to see him perform to the level that the country was crying out for up front.
His goal in the 78th minute put those doubts to bed. Build him a statue as far as I’m concerned. I was half expecting VAR to manufacture some reason to rule out the goal, being one of the few matches I’ve been to since its introduction (God bless the Scottish Championship), but hope was sustained when the referee gave the all clear.
Patrick Dorgu’s equaliser had an air of inevitability about it for me, because I’ve learned one thing after following the Scotland National team for as long as I can remember – It is never easy.
Scotland were never going to hold out from the 78th minute against a ten-man Denmark to seal entry into their first World Cup in almost 30 years. It’s simply too boring. Think back to their method of qualification to the Euros five years ago, when a last-minute Serbian goal manufactured the stage for David Marshall to be a hero.
Turns out, the theme of expelling doubt would return through a player who, whilst I love to bits, had my concerns that the height of his national career had passed. His earlier substitution to right-back had raised a few eyebrows, but Steve Clark would only continue to prove the greater population of Scotland wrong.
Kieran Tierney’s 25-yard curler in the 93rd minute caused what can only be labelled as nationwide limbs. The right player, in the right place, at the right time. The natural left-back essentially had the world at his feet when the ball fell to him on the edge of the area, and he didn’t half make the most of it.
My hopes had, understandably, never been higher, but the weariness remained. A gut feeling just told me that I would witness the net down the opposite end of the pitch burst in the seconds that remained, and Szymon Marciniak’s bewildering refusal to end the match only fuelled suspicions.
Turns out, nobody would even hear the full-time whistle…
The national millisecond of silence that occurred between the ball leaving Kenny McLean’s boot and it hitting the net of Denmark’s goal, a mere 57 yards away, was special. Hundreds of thousands of minds simultaneously thinking, “Surely not. Surely a Scotland player hasn’t just scored from the halfway line. Surely a Scotland player hasn’t just scored from the halfway line, with the final kick of the ball, to guarantee World Cup qualification for the first time in 27 years…”
He surely had.
Every doubt, every worry, every shred of unease was thrown out the window. A fair few fans (including me) were essentially in a different postcode to their assigned seat when they realised there would be no restart to the match, ending Scotland’s 9979-day long absence from the World Cup.
Scotland media channels echoed the manager’s pre-match talk on the night: “Play with the anticipation of success, and not the fear of failure.”
Should the team continue to follow (Sir) Steve Clarke’s words of wisdom, the upcoming tournament in North America should be some laugh indeed.
