An Invernessian in America: It’s exhausting being Scottish, but we walk away with our heads held high
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Diane Knox on the trials and tribulations being a patriotic Scot.
The last two weeks have been an emotional rollercoaster for all Scots. And that is probably putting it mildly.
My work schedule has been completely based around Scotland’s Euro appearances, with nerves and anticipation in the run-up, and total anguish and devastation for hours after. It’s exhausting being Scottish, but at least we made it.
We prepare ourselves for disappointment. We’re a nation of self-deprecation, and we can take it. We’ve been bad for years.
We’ve missed out on major tournaments, and we’ve always been able to brush it off with a sense of humour, and still a sense of pride.
I’ve been trying to explain to people in America what it’s like to be a Scotland supporter. Actually, not even a supporter – just Scottish.
I am very happy to admit I don’t really follow Scottish football any more, and the only updates I see are on social media from friends who support a variety of teams that span the length (and breadth) of our wee country. But in this case it really doesn’t matter. If you’re from Scotland, you support the team wholeheartedly, and that’s just the way it is!
We’re a patriotic bunch, and when you leave Scotland for pastures new you suddenly become even more proud of your heritage.
I drink my coffee out of an “I Love Scotland” mug every morning, I have a Scottish license plate on my car, I even listen to MFR at my desk some mornings. I can’t walk into our local supermarket (Publix) without grabbing a bottle of overpriced (flat) Irn Bru, and I’ll make a special trip to a place called World Market to buy Tunnock’s Caramel Wafers. I don’t even like them that much, they just remind me of home.
It’s the small things that bring a smile to your face. Along with our national team’s first appearance in a major tournament since 1998.
Tuesday was THE DAY. Winner takes all. That second goal by Croatia was a solid punch in the gut. The third wasn’t even as bad – I think I’d accepted the fact we were beat.
At the start of the Euros, before the kick-off against Czech Republic, did we really believe we could advance beyond the group stages? No. But did we have all the faith, hope and optimism in the world? YES, heaps of it!
We deserved to lose our first match, we didn’t start our campaign with the aggression and determination we needed. Should we have beat England? Absolutely! The boys outplayed them and looked like an entirely different side. And we got to cheer (LOUDLY!) when we scored against Croatia.
At least we had that moment of glory and a glimmer of belief we could actually do it. We only had 45 minutes in front of us that could’ve changed it all but alas, it was not to be.
Twenty-three years without an appearance at a major championship, and we made it to the Euros, albeit a year later than planned. And we scored, and rejoiced, and got 100 per cent behind Steve Clarke’s side.
We walk away with our heads held high, and safe in the knowledge that the future looks brighter than it has for a long, long time.
Now we put all our hopes into Andy Murray at Wimbledon, or Robert McIntyre at The Open… and whatever happens, we’ll be right behind them, as always.
