The pain sits quite hollow in the pits of your stomach, an ache, a flash of memories, goal opportunities, tackles that weren’t made and despair upon despair on the faces in the crowd.
Tournament football is a bitch, especially if the place you call home sits furthest west of the European northern hemisphere on a plot of green and very wet land known as the United Kingdom…and Ireland.
O’But it’s the hope, the hope and the hope and hope that finally gets you and of course those glorious DREAMS.
Being an England supporter we all recoil and trace back longing memories of Stuart Pearce smashing the ball into the German keepers legs, Chris Waddle crashing the crossbar, Southgate and dare I say many other hapless, unlucky and so close moments to remember.
For Scotland, that pain is fresh and the wounds are deep.
A nation steeped in passion and pride, you only have to hark back a few nights to the match against Switzerland when the deafening choir of The Flower of Scotland blazed and roared around Germany. Never do I remember a national anthem being sung to the capacity of so many a-lung.
No consoling Robertson
And it’s for these reasons that the game against Hungary feels more like a low and unwarranted blow, right into the midriff of those well versed and passionate supporters of the Tartan Army…and of the course the many Scot’s reeling and squirming in their seats at home.
A crushing defeat doesn’t come close. For a team needing victory or at the very worst a draw, to come away with nothing but their packed suitcase is a hard pill to swallow.
Have Scotland been in great form during this Euro’s? Probably not, but did they deserve to have their hopes and dreams shattered in those circumstances, nay never. A penalty claim that most would have given, a decent amount of clear shots at goal and hearts left on sleeves from those royal blue jerseys.
Scotland compete in a highly pressure game
Dreams are the moments we live inside our head, the lifting of golden and silver trophies or just merely the chance to support our nation for one more game in the sport we love, with the world watching and passions at fever pitch…football is the drug we all crave and success is always just a pipe dream away.
The Hungarians will go away with 3 points and currently sitting within the qualifying position for 3rd place, a nice touch from UEFA this year.
Scotland on the other hand will fly home with thoughts of what-ifs and how-comes. True heart lies in your response to the challenge ahead and for Scotland the sheer fact that they were here and competing should never be sniffed at. An accolade and achievement that spurs on building and strategy for the coming years ahead.
Hungary now look to qualify in 3rd place
But it’s this morning where all the dreams come to rest. Black coffee looks back at you and attempts to null the hollowness, the fact that there will be no more Flowers of Scotland and no more kilts flapping in the German wind is a hard pill to swallow, especially when it’s laced with Tartan and Highland dreams.
“Ah, lang may yer lum reek!“
The Scottish Highlands
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