World Cup 2006

Now let’s be clear up front - Scotland are NOT playing in the World Cup - we didn't qualify. This will probably save us coming up with some “glorious – nearly made it” excuse as to why we got knocked out in the first round by a one goal difference though we never actually lost a game (al la 1974).

Here in the USA there is actually some serious TV coverage of this World Cup – if only because the USA has a team that is slightly fancied to make it to the top eight – possibly – maybe – we will see...... Here much was made of England's appalling opener against Paraguay where the only reason they won was a Paraguay own goal at the start of the game. Still as the commentator said - "A win is a win". Let's hope for England's sake they don't end up looking at goal difference to elevate them to the second round....

Football (USA=Soccer) or Fitba’ as it is called in my native Glasgow has held a fascination for many years. Our Primary school (USA=Elementary/Middle) playground walls had "impossible to discern" mystical marks on opposite walls that served for goal posts that were offset by some 30 feet to allow for the advantage the one-way slope supposedly gave the downhill attacking team. In fact in a throwback to polo – we had a local rule that forced a change of ends after any downhill scored goal – to try and equalize the bias. If you managed to score up the hill it was considered pretty good – but you didn’t get to change ends. For football duffers like me – relegated to the far wing on the uphill side, where the ball was seldom seen and where I wouldn’t cause too much mayhem – I usually had no idea which way we were playing and if the ball occasionally, fortuitously and accidentally landed at my feet – I would just play in whatever direction I happened to be facing – assuming I even managed to actually kick it - we played with a low, fast tennis ball - devoid of canvas covering and slippery as an eel! I had a 50% chance of picking the right direction and if I was wrong – the howls from my fellow team mates – assuming anyone actually knew which team I was on - would warn me I was going the wrong way!

 

For the Scot’s there is total ambivalence about supporting England. We may be part of the "United Kingdom" but they are - after all – “the Auld Enemy”. In Scotland we know "Hae wis really World Champions in 1967"… Scotland having beaten the 1966 World Cup champions England at England’s home ground Wembley in a 3-2 nail biter. (You can be champions at anything if you wait long enough for the results to twist your way!).

Our slightly (well actually - totally) disgraceful pitch invasion after another surprise away win against England in 1977 led to the wholesale removal of Wembley's turf and a set of goals to head back to Scotland as souvenirs of that famous day. Many a Scottish garden is graced - or supposedly graced - with a piece of that turf as a memento. I wonder who has the goalposts? Are they surreptitiously set up in a back garden in Maryhill where - if you know Big Tam and buy him a pint of Tennant's - you will be taken to see them - and perhaps be allowed to kick a ball between them? Is it any wonder that the London office of the “Visit Scotland” tourist center has – I am reliably told – decided to play it down the middle and has put up a sign wishing the English team luck – on the grounds that people might think that Scotland was an inhospitable and rowdy place if they did otherwise. Apparently a recently released EU report has decided that Scotland is the rowdiest European developed country. Personally I think they could have just not done anything and got away with it!

The sidebar temperature guide gives a fairly accurate idea of the Scot’s feelings about the English team – though you have to read to the end.

However I have to admit that at age 6 in 1966 – concepts of the “Auld Enemy” had not yet poisoned my mind and I was as fervent about the competition as my fellow school mates. I even had a “World Cup Willie” England mascot sticker on my school jersey – and Mum if you are reading this – I’m not yet sure I have forgiven you for ironing my jersey one morning and melting it away to nothing. I remember crying inconsolably and my Dad having to deal with getting me to school. I see you can get original WCW stickers on eBay right now - there was a long term investment - whoever bought them all up back then!


The other cultural item of the time was Scotland’s leading folk duo Robin Hall and Jimmie MacGregor’s rendition of the song “Fitba’ Crazy”. My Mum was mortified. Not so much that I learned it but that I put such emphasis on the word “skivvies (servants)” which was “not a nice word”. Funnily enough – Robin and Jimmie's version of the song is almost impossible to obtain in any form and never appeared in any of the duo’s compilation albums – so the transcription below is from my faulty memory, prodded by a little web research. I also discovered – to my amazement – that the song was based on an 1885 music hall routine and that there is a fairly accurate rendition of the 1885 version on Glasgow school teacher Adam McNaughton’s CD “Words Words Words”.
 

Evolution of a Folk Song
This was originally published in Dundee in 1885. It is a a mixture of song and "patter" so it was probably a music hall routine
I transcribed these words from Adam McNaughton’s version of the song. Adam credits the song to James Curran. You all know my big brither Jock His right name’s Johnny Shaw Last week he jined a fitba’ club For he’s mad about fitba’ He’s got two black eyes already An’ teeth oot by the root Since Jock’s face came in contact Wi another fella’s boot. CHORUS ‘Cause he’s fitba’ crazy He’s fitba’ mad The fitba it has ta’en away The wee bit sense he had And it wid take a dozen servants His claes tae wash and scrub Since Jock became a member o’ That terrible fitba’ club The first game he took part in I wis there ma’sel’ an’ saw There were twa half bricks fae goalposts An’ a tin can for the ba’ The Prince of Wales wis present Wi’ lords ‘n’ ladies grand Oor Jock he got an egg box An’ he made a big grandstand CH Oh all the fitba’ teams hiv afloat He swears they are the prime An’ you want tae hear him bounce aboot Their beatin’ record time They’ve challenged every ither side Nane ‘ill tak’ them up Since they beat the Blind Asylum Fir a leather plated cup CH His wife she says she’ll leave him If he disnae keep Away frae playin’ fitba’ At night time in his sleep He ca’s her Pat McGinty An’ ither names sae droll Last night he kicked her oot the bed An’ swore it wis a goal! You can get a copy of Adam's CD from Music in Scotland CH	Robin Hall and Jimmie MacGregor's Version   1. I have a favourite brither An' his Christian name is Paul. He's lately joined a fitba' club 'Cause he's mad about football. He's two black eyes already And teeth lost from his gob, Since Oor Jock became a member of That terrible football club. CHORUS: Oh he's fitba' crazy. he's fitba' mad. The fitba' it's taken away The little sense that he had. And it would take a dozen skivvies His claes tae wash and scrub Since Oor Jock became a member of that Terrible football club. 2. In the middle of the field one afternoon The captain says, 'Now Paul, Would you kindly take this penalty kick Or we'll never win at a'? So he took ten paces backwards, And shot off frae the mark. The ball went skiting o'er the bar And landed in New York. CH 3. His wife she says that she'll leave him If oor Jock disnae keep Away from football kicking In the night-time in his sleep. He calls out 'Pass, McGinty!' And other things so droll Last night he kicked her out of bed And shouted "It's a goal!" CH

Me – I’m off to watch the Scots play the USA at polo next weekend. We are looking for a hat trick – Scotland having won the last two encounters.