Scotland v Brazil: Learning The Hard Way

Comprehensively outclassed and the day marred by an accusation of racism.

Scotland have had better experiences than their trip to London on Sunday.

Having endured 90 minutes of pressure it could surely only be the most masochistic of Scotland fan who would stick to the party line that a glamour clash against Brazil is always a joy to behold.

The way in which 19 year old Neymar provided the focal point as a depleted Brazil waltzed past Scotland served only to underline how small our progress - wins against the Faroes and Northern Ireland - has been in the grand scheme of the world game.

Of course Brazil are in football's stratosphere, Scotland are its honest journeymen. We're not supposed to beat them. 2-0 will allow the record books to show that we avoided annihilation.

From the Scotland camp came the expected messages of lessons being learned, of hard work paying off.

But this was turgid stuff from Scotland.

Kenny Miller, as tireless as ever, touched the ball on seven times in the first half, his isolation almost complete.

Charlie Adam was honest about his own failure to perform. If Steven Whittaker is given to nightmares then it must be expected this his slumbers will be interrupted by Dani Alves in the coming weeks.

It's unfair to pick out individuals. As Brazil coach Mano Menezes said at the end, this is a Scottish team that relies on collective hard work. The succeed together and they fail together.

The only positive to draw was that Scotland didn't completely fall apart as the Brazilians ran them ragged.

Scotland's plan was to work hard, to press and harry. Yet even in this the temporary hosts provided the most exhilarating display.

When Scotland sought temporary reprieve by training to hold the ball at the back or using Allan McGregor as an outlet, the yellow shirts swarmed into the final third.

Finding himself rushed, his defenders and midfielders marked, the goalkeeper could only go long or wide. Possession was immediately handed back.

It was a study in combining ability with hard work. The sobering lesson was one that many Scotland fans learnt years ago - our own brand of toil and labour combined with technical inferiority is increasingly impotent in the modern game.

All of which is probably nothing new.

So perhaps the most immediate positive to take from it all was Levein's assurance that we won't play a tougher friendly.

And, when all is said in done, it was only a friendly. It could be a costly one though if it combines with other results to send our ranking plummeting.

A game that underlined our weaknesses might also have made it even more difficult for us to qualify for the 2016 World Cup in Brazil.

I hope the SFA feel suitably comfortable with that as they count the cash they got for showing up at the Emirates.

> The racism allegation: As I understand it the booing of Neymar centred on what the fans saw as play acting.

A banana was thrown. The video I have seen suggests it came from the Brazil end, although footage throughout the game seemed to show a fairly wide mingling of fans.

The Tartan Army, since backed by the SFA, have issued vehement denials.

The truth is there was an idiot, from somewhere, in the ground whose ignorance cast a shadow on the day, a day that should have been celebrated for Neymar's performance. And that's deeply regrettable.

George Peat "Embarrassed And Extremely Disappointed"

Unfortunately, it wasn't the Scotland performance that Mr Peat was referring to:

"I was embarrassed and extremely disappointed by the disgraceful behaviour of some of our supporters during the Liechtenstein national anthem at Hampden Park.

"The Scotland fans have worked hard to earn their reputation throughout the world as fun-loving and respectful followers of football.

"Those who chose to boo our opponents' anthem only served to tarnish that reputation.

"I apologise unreservedly to our visitors for the crass reaction to their anthem, just as I did in private to the Liechtenstein delegation.

"It must not be forgotten that all nations must abide by Fifa's Fair Play policy and the behaviour does nothing to help Scotland's image."

Yes, George Peat is apparently pretty annoyed that the Scotland fans, or sections of them, were booing the Liechtenstein national anthem at Hampden last.

The pain of agreeing with For Peat’s Sake. But booing an anthem because it’s got the same tune as God Save The Queen? That seems pretty mindless.

Still, I was “embarrassed and extremely disappointed by the disgraceful” performance of the national team last night.

For some time I have been “embarrassed and extremely disappointed by the disgraceful” mess George Peat has made of his tenure at the SFA. I could almost accept his ineptitude if he covered for it in some way with honest endeavour. He doesn’t.

He’s a sham who continues to damage the game by remaining in his post and through his own “crass reaction” to any criticism.

This attack on the fans might be justified but it's being used to distract from the myriad of issue that last night's performance raised.

Here’s Moira Gordon’s take on it during today’s Scotsman live chat:

“George Peat is not a man I will ever be singing the praises of as he has been one of those who have sat on their backsides doing very little but having anarchic self-preservation committee and sub-committee meetings while Scottish football fell into ruin around them. But I do agree with the idea that we should be grown up and respectful enough to not to boo our way through the opposition's national anthem. I just wish he had reacted this quickly to things that are wrong with our game as he has to this.”

Quite. George and his cronies aren’t blameless in what we saw last night. The fans were maybe just joining the SFA in doing “nothing to help Scotland’s image.”

* Incidentally, these are the fairly innocuous words to the Liechtenstein anthem:

High above the young Rhine

Lies Liechtenstein, resting

On Alpine heights.

This beloved homeland,

This dear fatherland

Was chosen for us by

God's wise hand.


Long live Liechtenstein,

Blossoming on the young Rhine,

Happy and faithful!

Long live the Prince of the Land,

Long live our fatherland,

United by brotherly bonds and free!

Scots wey hey?

I can’t quite figure it out but I really think I’m beginning to care less and less about Scotland.

I’ll watch the game on Wednesday night. And I’ll be keen for us to do well. But I’ll be watching more in hope than expectation, I’ll be an armchair fan with very little invested in the result.

The thought of taking a trip to Hampden, far less trekking to Oslo, fills me with absolutely no wonder at all.

I was as incensed as the next man when Barry Ferguson and Allan McGreggor "shamed the nation." But it strikes me that the most emotional interaction I’ve had with Scotland since the Italy game (maybe even before as it always looked like we had too much to do) is being annoyed at a couple of neds acting like neds are supposed to.

And that seems odd to me. What’s going on?

Maybe its simply the inevitable apathy that is bred by repeated failures. When I was two Scotland played in the World Cup. They repeated that every four years (apart from once) until I was 18. They also notched up two Euro’s in that time.

We might not have done much when we got to major tournaments but by God we were as good as anyone at getting there.

Maybe the run of recent failures has made my formative years seem like a golden age of achievement. Maybe I’m simply getting old and turning into one of those "in my day, X, Y, Z were much better" grumpy old idiots that go to every football ground in the land.

Maybe it’s the manager. Andy Roxburgh and Craig Brown made being dull a virtue. George Burley strikes me as being one of the dullest men to have ever walked on the Hampden turf. I’m sure he’s not as bad as he seems but his mournful delivery and apparent “woe is me” reaction to every minor setback doesn’t inspire confidence.

If you’re going to pitch yourself as a duller version of Craig Brown then you really need to get success quite quickly to have any hope of capturing the public imagination. Chris Iwelumo sclaffing at a chance that Douglas Bader would have put away comfortably is probably not the level of glory you’re aiming for.

Then there’s the players. James McFadden might be a throwback who repeatedly has the pundits in raptures but is he a figure for a nation to rally around. Chick Young obviously thinks so. Clearly agreeing with Chick is out of the question so we’ll need to look elsewhere.

Stephen McManus? Nah. You can’t command the respect of a country when you’re clearly not good enough to live up to a hysterical press billing. Not even the new Colin Hendry let alone the new Billy McNeill.

Alan Hutton? Craig Gordon? A full back and a goalkeeper who may or may not get first team action for their clubs this year.

Scott Brown and Darran Fletcher? They need to come to the fore. If they don’t grab this squad, and the nation, by the scruff of the necks then nobody else well. But are either of them yet the characters that we need to galvanise a country?

So the manager and players aren’t helping me get over this growing disconnection. What else is there?

The fans. The fabled Tartan Army. The best fans in the world.

What a bunch of guys. But, you know, I find them increasingly cliquey and arrogant about their status as the best fans in the world. And all the enforced jollyness looks like bloody hard work.

Drinking all day and still having the energy to stand and sing catchy, if antiquated, ditties into a freezing night sky in a country you’d never heard of the last time Scotland played in a World Cup takes discipline. This is no longer going to the game with a few mates. This is football supporting as an endurance sport, fandom taken to Olympian heights. Smile though your heart is breaking…

Well, actually don’t. Somewhere along the line we’ve got confused. We seem to think that the only alternative to a destructive rampage through foreign cities when we get beaten is a laughter fuelled rampage through foreign cities when we get beaten.

Seriously, why the need for such extremes? Is the constant, maunfactured atmosphere of extreme happiness not exhausting. If I was a fully paid up member of the Tartan Army – I think I’m too misanthropic to be allowed – I’d be fecking knackered the whole time.

So there we have it. A lack of success. A manager who seems to be aiming to come across as a kind of inverted Ally Macleod. Players who are decent, honest and hardworking. But not players who are flirting with greatness. And loveable fans who are becoming increasingly less loveable because of their constant need to appear loveable.

The result is an increasing distance between myself and the national team. I watched the Holland game in particular with a sense of detachment. I wanted a good game certainly. I wanted Scotland to do well. But really I approached the game with the lack of passion you’d expect from a neutral. As I’m not becoming any less Scottish that’s strange.

Maybe it’s just me. I’m prepared to accept that. I am failing in my patriotic duty, a disgrace. People fought a war for my right to support Scotland. And I fling it back in their face.

Fine. Except I’m not sure it is just me.

The international game is being devalued by the neverending reach of the major European leagues. But Scotland, a small country used to punching above their weight with a weak domestic league, shouldn’t be in that position. The national team should still be a focal point.

And for many people it still is. But I don’t think I’m alone in becoming less passionate, less wrapped up in the country’s success and failures. And that’s a trend that worries me and one that I can’t find a cure for.