More fool us for falling for the Scotland hype
IT’S one hell of a legend. A popular image created with the full consent of an occasionally-adoring, always-hopeful, eversusceptible public.
And, with due respect to the professional nonsense-creators who proliferate during party conference season, it may turn out to be the biggest pile of bunk ever laid before a bemused nation.
Never mind Jeremy Corbyn’s latest ‘perfectly clear’ Brexit announcement. Forget the latest dose of diversionary Boris Johnson bombast.
Scotland’s self-generated, selfregarding reputation as a bunch of rugby revolutionaries, a cavalier collection of risk-takers and heart-breakers completely unbound by old-school diktat, beats the lot.
Because Gregor Townsend’s team have become terribly, teethgrindingly, tediously predictable. On and off the park.
Far from living up to the hype, they are now in very real danger of disappearing up their own egos. Conceding try after try on their merry way to oblivion.
Honestly? The only genuinely surprising Scottish contribution to the Rugby World Cup so far came with one momentary slip of the tongue. And captain Stuart McInally’s
mea culpa, admitting that he didn’t actually know why his team are still starting big games with all the ferocity of a sloth shot full of tranquillisers, hardly counts in their favour.
What next, Stu? A confession that defence coach Matt Taylor sent you boys into battle without a coherent plan to stop an Ireland side boasting threats ranging from the clear and present to the blooming obvious?
Yeah, that would be a shock. Completely unthinkable, even.
Look, we all played our part in the usual charade leading up to this tournament. It’s traditional to get swept up in World Cup optimism every four years.
Especially when players talked so openly and convincingly about Scotland’s ability to win the whole damned tournament. But bravado in the build-up, followed by complete and utter bunkum when confronted with the first real test of mettle and mentality? Been there. Seen it. Burned the commemorative T-shirt.
All involved in Sunday’s opener against Ireland should be embarrassed and humiliated by the depth of their ineptitude and, most damningly of all, apparent unpreparedness.
Jeez, Gregor. As a squad and a coaching staff, you’ll never be in better shape than in the first game of a tournament.
You’ve had total control over the programme leading up to that group opener. Rested the guys who needed resting, tried out all the options for every position.
There is no excuse for not being ready. No conceivable explanation, after months preparing to face opponents who we play every
single year, for being caught cold. Yet the loss of more early points, followed by an inability to recover, tells a horrifying truth.
Concerning enough is that perceived lack of intensity. The lack of cutting edge in attack is also a problem.
But all of Scotland’s woes stem from something far more simple. An inability to defend against a well-structured, well-thought out, meticulously-planned attack.
Allowances can be made when tries are conceded amid the chaos of opponents changing things on the hoof after 20, 40 or even 60 minutes. It’s tough to adapt to tactical switches in any sport.
But Ireland didn’t do anything extraordinary from the kick-off. They just knew where Scotland’s weaknesses lay — and exploited them.
CJ Stander breaking through the line half-a-dozen times, then allowing front-row players to carry the ball in tight, executing kick-chase well and getting a driving maul going from line-out … it’s hardly radical stuff.
Which brings us to Taylor, a defence coach who certainly talks a good game. Oh, the heart most definitely stirred when he spoke about his boys aiming to ‘smash’ Johnny Sexton.
Yet the barrier he places between the opposition and the gain line is consistently breached with alarming regularity.
Away from Fortress Murrayfield, his brave boys are conceding an average of nigh on 30 points a game to Tier One nations. Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.
The big boys bash through the middle, the fast fellas fly round the sides — and everyone else just slips through the gaps.
Any team forced on to the back foot in this manner simply isn’t going to find a way to create and take chances of their own. They can’t generate momentum from nothing.
What Scotland will do next, of course, is also predictable. Inevitable, even.
Against perhaps the weakest Samoa side of the past 20 years, a team without a victory over Tier One opposition since their 2014 win against Italy, the Scots will bounce back in style.
Then a few brave dressing-room leaders will mump and moan about unfair criticism in the media following the Ireland game.
After Russia are despatched, it’s on to the all-or-nothing clash with Japan. Despite everything, you would still fancy a Scotland team hardened by regular exposure to Six Nations combat and top-level touring experience to come out on top.
Cue ecstatic pictures of players celebrating with a cheeky beer in the dressing room, the ‘first goal’ of reaching the quarter-finals having been achieved.
A quick scudding by the All Blacks in the last eight and home in time for the clocks going back?
You could write it now. Unless someone finds a way to depart from this script, Scotland will never match the myth created in their name.