Oli toils to bridge quality gap
McBurnie is a willing worker but finds the going tough against streetwise Russians
PUPILS who attended Oli McBurnie’s old school in Leeds would have been mystified by this week’s little furore surrounding the £20 million striker. They could vouch for his longstanding dedication to the Scotland cause.
On dress-down days, Oli and younger brother Zander were often sent through the gates sporting the famous dark blue jersey. There was even the odd occasion of matching face-paint.
Given that McBurnie was two years old when Scotland last qualified for a major tournament, these rituals counted as a early induction into tartan-tinge masochism. What better way to form patriotic credentials than being taunted in the playground by class-mates pretending to be Steven Gerrard or David
Beckham while you are clad in an outfit associated with serial failure?
Dad Neil wouldn’t have it any other way. It was Scotland and Rangers for the McBurnie boys. Not England and Leeds United. Family heritage trumped place of birth.
‘My brother and I were brought up as being Scottish,’ explained McBurnie, speaking when he received a first senior Scotland call-up in March of last year.
‘We were brought up to celebrate when England got knocked out of the World Cup. That was my childhood. I didn’t really have any say in the matter.
‘International football is the pinnacle for me and this is the proudest moment of my career.’ There had never been any reason to doubt that. McBurnie’s words of enthusiasm were always delivered with sincerity.
But then a video of him making apparently disparaging comments about the national team set-up was inadvertently captured before Sheffield United’s EFL Cup game against Blackburn Rovers. Its emergence prompted outrage among the feistier battalions of the Tartan Army.
The player’s father, as well as club manager Chris Wilder, both moved in to defend McBurnie, stressing that his comments had been ‘banter’ with fellow Scot John Fleck, a regular room-mate. Those taking offence were taking it out of context.
Steve Clarke revealed McBurnie had addressed the situation in front of the rest of the squad and that it was now finished. He wanted fans to stay off the 23-year-old’s back. Everyone who had met McBurnie knows he likes a joke. The explanation of his words seems feasible. And, anyway, don’t actions could louder than words? McBurnie has been a regular with Scotland up through the age groups and has no reputation as a shirker.
In truth, this storm in a video clip was not the real issue surrounding him ahead of last night’s crunch game meeting with Russia. The question of whether McBurnie actually has what it take to lead the national team attack was far more pertinent.
Seven previous caps hadn’t created much of a positive impression. The jury will remain out on the No 8, but largely because so much of the play was at the opposite end of the pitch.
McBurnie did what he could on only the rare occasions he had a chance to impress, winning the odd knock-down and defending diligently. No blame could be attached to him for a result that effectively ends hope of automatic qualification for Euro 2020. It was a decent enough shift.
The bigger issues lay elsewhere. Scotland’s much-vaunted midfield was over-run at times by sharper, smarter opponents. Unforced errors added to a painfully porous display, especially on the defensive right flank.
At least McBurnie’s commitment was obvious from the off. It had to be when he was feeding off meagre scraps.
The former Swansea man has a running style that could never be described as elegant, but those gangly legs tried to get Scotland onto the front foot during the early exchanges.
A neat touch set up half an opening for James Forrest. Then McBurnie’s near post run played a part — a small part — in Scotland taking the lead after just ten minutes.
The striker’s darting attempt to connect with Ryan Fraser’s inswinging cross from the left might just have distracted Russian goalkeeper Guilherme. Even then, there could be no mitigation for the miserable mess the naturalised Brazilian made it of things thereafter. Allowing the ball to simply bounce against him, Guilherme was left embarrassed as John McGinn pounced on the rebound to claim his first international goal.
McBurnie would dearly have loved to follow in breaking his own duck. But chances to do so were non-existent. His priority was in attempting to hold up the ball and stitch together moves.
It was a mixed bag in terms of success. Greek referee Tasos Sidiropoulos penalised him for leading with an arm in an aerial challenge against Georgi Dzhikiya. This was a battle of the beards, with the Russian centreback somewhat milking the contact.
McBurnie had more joy when dropping deeper. Little surprise. Following the goal, Clarke’s side seemed to be camped on the edge of their 18-yard box. Sufficient pressure had been applied for the visitors to more than merit the 30th minute equaliser supplied by Artem Dzyuba. Scotland would love to have an attacking figurehead like the Russian captain. At 6ft 5ins tall, and about twice as broad as McBurnie, Dzyuba is about as easy to shift as a Ural mountain. Defenders simply bounce off him. And there is enough finesse to go with the physique.
But Clarke cannot call upon a similarly talismanic figure. Finding a first-choice striker is no simple task. Eamonn Brophy started against Cyprus in Clarke’s debut game in charge before Oli Burke took over in Belgium.
McBurnie missed that squad through injury, but his summer price tag and place in the English Premier League offer obvious attractions. Especially while Leigh Griffiths remains short of peak form.
Matt Phillips joined McBurnie in attack for the closing stages. But doubling up didn’t make a difference. With Belgium to come on Monday evening, things are unlikely to get any easier.