Euros will end apathy that’s gripped nation
The Hollytree Pub in Menstrie, near Stirling.
A boozer ’ s name ingrained in my mind since summer 1990.
That’s where a group of Scotland supporters left for the World Cup in Italy.
And for two weeks they took me and my brother Ross under their wing on the trip of my life.
I was there at Italia 90. A football fanatic at just 10 years old, it was the best summer holiday ever.
My parents had a choice of Disney World Florida or the World Cup. Mum had no chance, there was only going to be one winner.
We got tickets for one game – just my luck, it had to be Costa Rica.
Every time I see the Stadio Luigi Ferraris in Genoa I’m transported back to that day.
The scorching sunshine, saltires and lion rampants everywhere. My air horn was confiscated at the turnstile. I was gutted.
Alan McInally started ahead of Ally McCoist. For the life of me, I still can’t work that out.
And that Costa Rica winning goal that seemed to hit the back of the net in slow motion.
Excitement, hope and anticipation followed by dejection and despair. So typically Scottish. From that low to the ultimate high of beating Sweden in the next game.
Crammed into a packed Rimini bar with the guys from Menstrie. I was on their shoulders trying to see Stuart McCall’s opener on a 28-inch telly.
The outpouring of sheer joy at the final whistle.
We were on the streets making beeping noises, the way the Italians do in their cars after a big result.
What a night that was. Unforgettable.
Then, of course, came the obligatory kick in the teeth. We gave Brazil a run for their money – but it wasn’t enough.
Andy Roxburgh’s team were going home and so were we. But I felt like a proper Scotland fan.
That feeling never left me and it’s why Thursday night was special – the end of a 23-year wait to be back with the big boys.
In the build-up to Serbia, it was noticeable the number of young people who weren’t that fussed.
That saddened me but it’s because they’ve never experienced the buzz of having the men’s team at a Euros or World Cup.
Being absent from the big party has become the norm. But that will all change this summer.
A glorious Monday afternoon at Hampden against the Czechs to kick it off. A Friday night against the Auld Enemy, when it will feel like the whole count ry has descended on Wembley.
Then back to Glasgow to seal our place in the next round against Croatia.
There’s that hope and anticipation again.
We’ve got a bit of it back again thanks to Steve Clarke and his players.
A bunch of boys who, judging by Thursday night, are more together than any Scotland side in years.
After two decades of indifference, they can inspire a new generation to be Scotland supporters.
Hopefully they catch the bug like I did 30 years ago and it never leaves them.