Kelts, KS and Kieren Tierney – 28 years of madness in Scotland finally makes complete sense | soccer

“It was your fault,” I whispered to my colleague Ossie. “You and your Kansas City.” Who do you think you are, Dorothy Gale?

When Scotland conceded a late equalizer to Denmark that seemed to end our hopes of qualifying for the 2026 World Cup, that was who I decided to blame.

Yes, the man responsible for our ordeal was my friend, who I thought had “jinxed us” when he had absent-mindedly commented earlier that if we traveled to the USA, he would prefer Kansas to Los Angeles or New York.

Not the defenders who didn’t clear their lines properly, nor the midfielders who didn’t get close to Patrick Dorgu, nor even coach Steve Clarke, who was often criticized for an abundance of caution.

Such is the twisted logic, lack of reason and sheer cosmic stupidity of supporting Scotland. After nearly 30 years of absence from the World Cup, we will resort to any explanation and cling to any myth.

Previously, I would insist on watching matches with certain people, in certain places, to try to recreate any hint of success.

I spent the afternoon tormented in a kilt before a crucial qualifying match, torn between wearing a pair of boxers that I perceived as lucky, and imitating a ‘true Scottish’ commando. In the end, I really think I did half of each.

But it didn’t work. Of course it didn’t work. Because it never happens with Scotland.

Not when it comes to the World Cup. It’s always the glorious failure, the bad luck, the refereeing decisions, the mistakes of choice. Wrong choice of underwear. It always seems like something, anything, is keeping us from making it to the big stage.

Until last night. Last night was different.

Because while a lot of last night (the self-defeating tactics, the moments of madness, the nerve-shredding complications) seemed like the same old Scotland, a lot of it wasn’t.

That’s what made this match, this reaction, and this group of players so special.

For years, we’ve been a team that has had those big moments, those game-changing events happen to we. Now we are the team that imposes it on others.

We don’t score last-minute goals to get to the World Cup, we concede them. We don’t put pressure on goalkeepers from the middle, we watch our goalkeeper score these goals from the net.

It seems like there’s always something, anything, keeping us from making it to the big stage — until last night

We don’t have Ballon d’Or candidates bury overhead kicks, we watch other players do it and wonder why we don’t produce this talent.

That’s no longer the case – it’s now typical Scotland, typically, bafflingly, inexplicably wonderful.

Some of my first football memories go back to the last time Scotland qualified for the World Cup, in France 98.

When I was just seven years old, I still remember traveling on a freezing night ferry from Hull, cheering on Craig Burley’s amazing goal against Norway, and dancing with Cameroon fans in Nantes.

I loved sharing those memories, but as the years passed behind me and in front of me, as the near misses and disappointments piled up, they grew on me.

I’m tired of constantly failing, and I’m starting to sound like a jaded vet from a cheesy movie – telling posterity “You weren’t there, man!” You don’t know what it was like!

And there was a miserable failure – in standard Scottish fashion, it’s not the games against the big nations that cost us, or that endure.

Among the bleak visions etched in my mind are draws against Moldova, Lithuania and Macedonia. Defeats to Wales, Slovakia and Georgia.

But for a new generation, watching Scottish national team moments will be seen as times of hazy joy, not hazy regret.

Instead of intonation as mentioned Which Iwulemo miss, or Which Armstrong v England removed, we can smile as we remember Which amazing mctominay, Which McLean’s End, Which Andy Robertson interview that didn’t leave a dry eye in the house.

There is a feeling that this may be the beginning of the journey, rather than the end of the journey. Scotland returned to the major tournaments in 2020 and 2024, quickly crashing out of the competition on both occasions.

“No Scotland, no party” has been the battle cry at the past two European Championships, but there is still a tinge of regret that partying has been pretty much the only thing we’ve been able to do successfully.

As the World Cup expands and smaller teams like Haiti and England come to the summit, there is a feeling that we can go further than we have been able to achieve.

I was in Germany and London during these two tournaments, and despite having a huge fear of flying, I hope I can make it to North America as well.

I always thought I would cure my phobia of flying when I settled down and found a partner – I often tell people ‘I’ll eventually find someone I love enough to take me on a plane’.

It turns out that someone was Kieran Tierney.

Last night, things went our way, we left the Danes to curse their luck, and turned the page on 28 years of hurt.

For once, the stars aligned, the jinx didn’t affect us, and this sheer cosmic stupidity seemed like galactic intelligence.

I can’t wait until next year – but to be safe, I might skip Kansas State.

Do you have a story you would like to share? Contact us at [email protected].

Share your opinions in the comments below.

MORE: Scotland star banned from World Cup dressing room celebrations after Denmark’s win

MORE: England governor with Broly ‘in tears’ and resigns after Jamaica suffers heartache at World Cup

MORE: Mum’s chilling warning after 11-year-old drug-related death: ‘You’ve got blood on your hands’