Features - James Halliday - September 2002

Andrew Kerr recently expressed disappointment that no mention has here been made of the joint bid by the Football Associations of Scotland and Ireland to host the European Cup competition in 2008. He describes the bid, quite correctly, as "one of the most important initiatives since the 1997 Referendum". In case some of you take the same dispassionate view of football as does our editor, can we reflect for a moment or two upon Mr Kerr’s assertion?

For my own part I stand amazed that football has never been mentioned in this column. My own obsession with the beautiful game has been life-long and at times ridiculous. One early memory is of being in tears as Scotland lost three goals to England at Wembley in 1932, an event brought into sad homes by radio. Revenge was sweet the following year, with victory at Hampden, and an inspiring display from goalkeeper Jackson of Partick Thistle; and he and his team became my first football idols. We don’t learn, us true fans, and ancient loyalty to Thistle has been supplemented because of location and ease of travel, by affection for Morton, Dunfermline and now Dundee United. And of course, through it all, a readiness to follow Scotland, in the days before the Tartan Army had really mobilised.

There has never been anything to apologise for in being addicted to football partisanship. For all of last century the only acknowledged separate identity conceded to Scots was that granted to their international teams; and therein lies the reason for the seemingly excessive fervour shown towards Scots who represented their country in the game which, like it or not, has meant most to the mass of the people. The same sort of response, giving a political significance to a sporting organisation or event, can be detected with no great difficulty, when Barcelona stand up to Real Madrid or Bilbao to all-comers, because there the Catalan and Basque people long found occasions to defy superior power.

But football can work in other ways. A year or two ago an academic working in Scotland advised Scots, in effect, that they should make up their minds as to which they were — English or Irish. How strange it is to find history repeating itself. In a previous age Scots found themselves caught in another predicament, having to attach themselves to either England or France. How seldom we have been given the chance to be ourselves; positive, not always having to be comparative, and not having to seek shelter in someone else’s camp. That’s what we have got from being few in numbers, fewer still in fertile acres, and too close for comfort to the stronger states around us.

We will not, and cannot, find any deliverance from our strategic location, and only limited compensation for our material weaknesses. In football for a century we did surprisingly well, and our national self-esteem was comfortably preserved by heroes of yearly internationals. The largest number of these heroes came from our two greatest football clubs — Rangers and Celtic. We can’t look in that direction for pride and assurance any more. Only a tiny handful of young Scots men now appear in the famous colours. The politics of the United Kingdom have encouraged rival English and Irish loyalties and emotional displays in Glasgow’s football grounds, and those grounds may some day be homes to clubs who function in English competitions.

Certainly we can but hope that some counter to this tendency can be found if we can share in the respect which will come from hosting a major tournament. The football community will gain, and so almost certainly would Scotland’s political defenders, because, just as in the old days, respect earned in football competition will, by extension, benefit our political prospects. Certainly any football failure damages the political cause. Think Argentina.

It is true, of course, that we now have Holyrood, and can make what we can out of the modesty identity there permitted. So Hampden is not quite the vital and inspiring battlefield that it once had to be. But Andrew is right. It still matters.