We’re off to Germany
The prelude
26 years since Scotland had last travelled overseas to to a major tournament. A whole generation of Scots having grown up on the glorious failures of McFadden in France, THAT referee against Italy, the Griffiths free kicks against England. The list could go on for this whole post. I’m sure you all have your own high/lowlight of that long, sometimes endless era.
Yes of course, we qualified for Euro 2020(1) after some Davie Marshall heroics against Serbia and that was a shining light in a particularly gloomy era for us all, but I have to say I felt that whole tournament had a touch of ‘damp squib’ feel, with stadiums half empty for a large part of it. This feeling is almost undoubtedly somewhat selfishly driven from the fact that I was unable to get tickets for any of the games, coupled with Scotland’s performance on the whole being fairly underwhelming. But at least it was the proverbial monkey off our collective backs and we’d be better for it at the next tournament we qualified for, I confidently concluded.
But after successfully negotiating a tough looking qualifying group including the might of Spain and their pals at UEFA (still not over the Seville debacle), Norway, with two of the best players in the world in their positions at their disposal, and a decent (if water allergic) Georgian side including ‘Kvaradona’ who looks set to join one of the continent’s top clubs for north of 100 million euros, we were off to the Land of the Deutsch after a tremendous start resulting in 15 points out of 15 left us sitting pretty, looking down on the rest of Europe and safely qualified for our second European Championships in a row.
Yas. No Scotland no party etc etc.
Saturday 2nd December 2023. Date of the group stage draw. Buzzing. Scotland drawn to play in the tournament curtain raiser. Ecstatic. Just like the 1998 tournament where we’d played Brazil in the opening game and got ourselves dangerously close to a famous draw against a team of superstars before a calamitous own goal stopped our darkest blue dreams directly in their tracks. Sigh. How very Scottish.
But those days are past now, and in the past they must remain. Time for a different mentality. We have a good side full of players playing at the top level, a vastly experienced and successful manager. Not to mention a Tartan Army who will back these boys to the hilt and beyond. We are a footballing nation again.
Post draw, the expected scramble and carnage for flights and accommodation ensued, but thankfully all was successfully arranged without breaking the bank. Just a few trains between cities and out to the stadiums once we got there. The Germans are famed for their efficiency and engineering. What could possibly go wrong.
Unfortunately, within the scramble for tickets I was unable to find any for the Germany game that were within my price range i.e. not 600 euros, but managed to acquire tickets for the Swiss and Hungary matches. Decent result.
After the tickets were sorted out, it was just a case of counting down the months, weeks and days until I could put my out of office on, crack open a cold one and watch my beloved nation perform on one of the biggest stages of all. Happy days.
To say Scotland’s build up to the tournament was a bit of a nightmare would be an understatement. Both our options for starting at right wing back crocked. Not good. A very decent first hour in the Netherlands, somehow unravelled into a 4-0 thumping. Concerning. A home defeat to Northern Ireland. Oh dear. Our big handsome Aussie striker stretchered off during training at Lesser Hampden. That’s the whole thing knackered.
A somewhat unspectacular victory over Gibraltar did brighten the mood slightly, more so because we’d actually made it through a game of football without someone getting injured. The draw with Finland was okay, we controlled most of the game and probably would’ve won if Angus Gunn had played 90 - and that is no disrespect at all to Craig Gordon, he’s a hero who deserved the send off that he got from Hampden and the accompanying 75th cap.
But no matter, stick Caledonia on repeat for the next week because we’re the famous Tartan Army and we’re off to Germany!!
Eventually 5pm, Friday 14th June 2024 arrives and on goes the out of office, ‘returning on Monday 1st July’ felt particularly satisfying to type. Down goes the laptop. To the fridge I go. Hello Mr Tennent’s.*insert satisfying beer bottle opening noise*
The tournament begins
I’ll be honest, I didn’t even turn on the ITV coverage until about 7.45pm because I knew which team they’d be discussing and it wasn’t two involved in the match I was preparing to watch. So the Scotland playlist got a shuffle. Much easier on the ears. Eventually after some renditions of Travis, Runrig and Belinda Carlisle to name but a few, the coverage was on in plenty time for the anthems. O’ Flower of Scotland was sung loud and proud to the living room and most likely surrounding neighbours. There’s something about that song being belted out on a stage like that one that really gets me. Great stuff by all involved. I always think that must be an incredible moment as a player, all those thousands of hours of work and sacrifice you’ve put in and it’s got you to the pinnacle - representing your country at a major tournament. Tremendous. Doubt I’d make it past the bagpipe introduction without greeting.
And then the game starts. And it was just chaos.
I had swayed back and forth over Gilmour or Christie starting through the week - had eventually landed on Gilmour being the better option but at the same time understanding why Clarke gave Christie the nod. However, in the opening minutes of the game, even before Germany scored it was painfully obvious we were at absolute panic stations all over the pitch, especially in midfield, which is usually one of our stronger areas. Would this have been different if Gilmour had started in the middle of the park? I doubt the overall result would’ve changed much but it might have helped us gain at least a hint of control to our play.
Players were all over the place, we looked like a team just thrown together half an hour before kick off rather than a side of experienced professionals who have played a lot of games together. To be fair, Florian Wirtz and Musiala in particular are seriously special talents and they would’ve given any defence in the competition a tough night on that day. We just didn’t give ourselves a chance.
The first goal I have to admit I do feel a bit sorry for Angus Gunn (I do think he should have done better). If he makes that save and tips it onto / around the post and it goes out for a corner then we’re all saying that it’s a great save. Unfortunately it doesn’t quite get there and he gets heavily criticised. Comes with the territory, I suppose.
9 minutes later it’s game over. Get the white handkerchiefs out. The usually reliable and consistent Callum McGregor takes a gamble and unfortunately against this level of opposition, a gamble that doesn’t win ends up in Jamal Musiala smashing the ball into the top corner. Not a great start. We still look all over the place and there’s not real sign of it getting any better. Just relieved for the guys & girls in the stand that alcohol is readily available. Looks like we’re away to need it.
The next 20 minutes or so provides a bit of respite, without ever looking like we were ever going to actually make much of a positive impact on the match. And then, just when I’m thinking ‘okay, maybe 2-0 at half time isn’t a total disaster’, up steps Ryan Porteous to put in a totally mental challenge to put an end to any risk of positive thinking. It’s a miracle Gundogan was able to play on in all honesty. Havertz sticks away the penalty and it’s damage limitation from here on. After 45 minutes. Depressing.
I’m not planning to do a blow by blow account of all the games. That’s not solely due to Bitburger but mostly because when I’m in the ground I find myself so invested in what’s happening at that exact moment in the game I don’t really take in the bigger picture. Probably something I need to work on. Easier to do that when watching on TV with the benefit of replays etc. Will more just be a reflection of my experience in the stands and around the game in general.
Anyways, the less said about the second half the better, probably the best central midfielder of the past 10-15 years in Toni Kroos was allowed to just stroll around and do whatever he fancied. We looked a bit better but I think Germany were understandably in total coast mode at that point. Big Fullkrug scores an absolute belter (side note I’m appreciating the re-emergence of the big bustling number 9 that seems to be appearing across football recently) and then a rare moment of joy. McKenna knocks one back across goal and big Toni Rudiger absolutely plants it past Neuer. Delirium. We’d scored without having a shot on target. Craig Levein sitting on his sofa under a tartan blanket with a glass of Shiraz absolutely loving it. Visionary.
Then of course Emre Can had to ruin the fun and our second half 1-1 draw in stoppage time. Simply grow up.
I wasn’t really in much of a mood to watch the post match breakdown, but thought it would be interesting to see what the panel’s take on proceedings was. Have to say that Roy Keane was spot on when observing that we looked ‘totally out of our depth’. Looked like this quality German side were in a different footballing stratosphere to ourselves. So that was that. Game one of the tournament done. No shots on target. Five conceded. Not an ideal start.
I will admit myself slightly irritated by Graeme Souness’s claim on Talksport that he ‘forgot’ the name of Callum McGregor. Regardless of club allegiances, this man has over 60 caps for Scotland and has been a mainstay in the team for years. In the former captain’s position no less. At least try and show a bit of interest in our game please.
But that’s by the by. For us Scots, hope springs eternal and Switzerland recording a 3-1 victory over Hungary was probably a good result for us. If we could somehow scrape 4 points together from our remaining fixtures then we’d be on our way to the round of 16. Simple right?
The weekend passed and a new week started afresh. Time to board the plane. Time for GERMANY