We’re On the March Again

Twenty-six years of waiting, one unforgettable campaign, and a nation finally daring to believe again.

Michael Hamilton

Scotland last qualified for a World Cup in 1998. The last time we secured qualification in front of our home fans was Italia ’90 – thirty five years before that incredible night last month. I’ve been lucky enough to attend some unforgettable football matches: a Champions League final, Andy Walker’s panenka against Killie… but nothing compares to that Tuesday night against Denmark. It was the best night of my life as a football fan, and it’ll be a long time before anything comes close.

Let’s be honest, though, we topped a group containing some genuinely strong sides. Denmark and Greece have both won the Euros, and while they might not be the forces they once were, we always knew they’d provide serious competition.

Scotland started brilliantly, producing arguably their best performance with a 0–0 draw away to Denmark. Considering Denmark had won 11 of their previous 12 home games, a point was a superb start – and we could even have nicked it, with good chances for McGinn and Doak in the second half.

A convincing away win against Belarus followed. Scotland dominated from start to finish and, with a bit more composure in front of goal, could easily have won by four or five. Four points from two away games had the fans feeling optimistic. Then came Greece and Belarus at home – two matches we hoped would bring two positive results. How we took six points from those games will forever baffle me, and probably the entire Greek population too.

Greece outplayed us for the first 65 minutes and should have been ahead at the break. Their goal in the 62nd minute felt inevitable. But somehow, we equalised through a scrappy corner, and the whole complexion of the match changed. When Lewis Ferguson slammed home another rebound to make it 2–1, joy and disbelief swept through Hampden. And when Lyndon Dykes pounced on a mistake from the Greek keeper, Scottish fans were in dreamland. We walked out delighted – and utterly baffled – at how we’d won.

Surely a better performance against Belarus would follow. Confidence was flowing after that comeback. But that wouldn’t be the Scottish way. An early Che Adams finish gave us hope, but wasteful finishing brought nerves flooding through the stands. A disallowed Belarus equaliser spared us, and when Ballon d’Or nominee Scott McTominay finally put the game to bed, Billy Gilmour’s “Thank… goodness” summed up every Scotland fan’s feelings.

And that, really, is what Steve Clarke has brought to this team. He gets stick for his demeanour and his selections, yet here we were, six points from two home games, and somehow disappointed.

The away match in Greece was always going to be tough. They wanted revenge, and we hadn’t played well since the opening game. We were dominated for the first half-hour and had the evergreen Craig Gordon to thank for keeping it to 1–0. We could even have gone in ahead at half-time, with missed chances and McTominay rattling the crossbar. The fickle nature of football fans kicked in, and I’m sure I saw a few “Clarke out” messages in the group chat. Greece came out flying in the second half and cut us open. At 3–0 after 63 minutes, the game looked gone. Then Scotland decided to turn up. Two goals in five minutes and a Greek red card put us on the front foot, but missed chances again cost us.

Then something magical happened. Bottom of the group without a point, Belarus went to Denmark and produced the shock of the campaign. Two quickfire goals put them 2–1 up and sent Scotland fans into dreamland. Denmark equalised, of course, setting up a Hampden showdown on the 18th of November – a night I was strangely confident about.

I’d had a big weekend and almost didn’t go – a decision I’d have regretted forever. The taxi ride was filled with talk of Clarke: Would it be his last game? What did we need to do? Would we settle for the play-offs? Having watched us get battered in play-offs over the years, that was not an option for me. The national anthem, as always at Hampden, was emotional – but this time it carried an extra layer of hope and passion.

I’ve watched the full match back once, and the YouTube highlights at least half a dozen times. The goals… well, that’s another story. We didn’t play particularly well, but who cares? After McTominay did the impossible – higher than Ronaldo, by the way – Denmark dominated for the next hour. A questionable second yellow changed the game, and belief began to grow. When Shankland tapped in from a yard, I genuinely believed. But when Denmark made it 2–2, I thought we’d “Scotland’d it” and snatched defeat from the jaws of victory.

Then came Tierney, on at right-back – not his natural side, but Clarke knew he needed his best players on the pitch. When the ball broke to him on the edge of the box, nobody expected that finish. He’s not exactly known for his goal scoring, but what a strike. I’ve never felt anything like it. The next five minutes were agony. The pub videos are hard enough to watch; inside the stadium we were on our knees. Memories of Harry Kane’s equaliser were still raw when the ball fell to Kenny McLean. “Square it to Adams and get in the corner,” was the polite version of what we were shouting. But when he looked up and hit it, I knew it was in the moment I saw Schmeichel panic. 4–2. Scotland are going to the World Cup for the first time in 26 years. Genuinely generational.

The 20 minutes after the final whistle will live with me forever. Now all we can hope for is to get through the group stage for the first time in our history. Facing Brazil and Morocco again is a twist of fate I didn’t need – but who cares? We’ll be there, and the Tartan Army will bring the party to the world stage once more.

Don’t count this Scotland side out. The moment you do, that’s when they turn it on. Brazil, Morocco and Haiti – be ready. We’ve waited long enough.