Let’s hope bookies are on the money
THE bookies now make Scotland odds- on to qualify for the Euro 2016 Finals. In the recent history of our beleaguered national team, that’s a term usually only applied to the probability of the l atest broken manager being axed, leaving by mutual consent or running weeping into the unforgiving night.
Are we really more likely than not to be among the finalists in France next summer? After so many barren years, i ncluding periods of promise cruelly snuffed out, you won’t find many sensible Tartan Army regulars making their travel arrangements just yet.
Yet, the truth can be denied no longer. We’re almost there. Almost. Partly because we have improved under Gordon Strachan, and certainly because the expansion of the Finals to 24 teams extends invitations to almost half of UEFA’s members.
And you know what? If and when it happens, we will richly deserve it. Which is a great deal more than can be said about Saturday’s opposition in Dublin.
Ireland — brutal, thuggish and collectively about as subtle as a James McCarthy flying forearm smash — should not be allowed anywhere near a showpiece tournament.
Admittedly, Scotland were bloody ordinary. Sorry, that should read ‘bloodied and ordinary.’ Strachan tried to get far too clever with his selection, thinking he would spring a few surprises on Martin O’Neill, only to neuter our own threats.
We do like you, Gordon. But if you ever leave Ikechi Anya out of your starting XI again, there will be serious words of censure. The Irish went into this game terrified of our pace on the counter, only to find our fastest and most explosive player sitting on the bench.
As for how Craig Forsyth not only got the nod to start ahead of Andy Robertson and Steven Whittaker, but then managed to last the entire fraught 90 minutes at left-back, well, that may remain a mystery for many years to come.
Still, at least Strachan hooked Matt Ritchie at half-time. A good decision balancing out a bad one, not only because it brought Anya into the fray, but because it was accompanied by a decision to shift Shaun Maloney out to the right where he could get more space to get on the ball, maybe even cut inside to play a one-two and have a crack at goal...
There is something wonderful about the wee schemers in this Scotland squad, is there not? Guys cast in the image of Strachan himself, boasting more brains than brawn and delighting in making lumbering defenders look daft.
That none of our best playmakers seemed to play with any fluency on Saturday is, in retrospect, not such a huge surprise. There is a serious problem with these qualifiers being played in the middle of June, betwixt and between the end of one arduous season and the beginning of another.
This is especially true of players who earn their corn in the English or Scottish leagues, with their emphasis on hard running through the worst of the winter conditions. Nor is it helped when some of those players, perhaps understandably, view the end of their domestic campaign as a sign to let it all go.
There were some very tired touches on Saturday, with Steven Fletcher’s inability to link play a real shock to the system, given the subtlety and strength he has brought to that role of late.
The boys will be sharper come the next round of qualifiers. The double-header — away to Georgia and home to Germany — in September seems like a long way away. The time between now and then will fly by, honest.
With just four matches remaining — October’s two-hander pitting us against Poland in Glasgow and Gibraltar on The Rock — we are closing in on something that feels like destiny. A return to France, where we last enjoyed t he torturous delight of being shown-up in a major finals back in 1998.
Those of us lucky enough to have been part of that adventure, every brief high and each devastating low of it, know how much fun it would be to go back for another crack at the big time.
As long as the bookies are right. A sentiment not often expressed by your average punter. But, on this occasion, entirely heartfelt.