The SFA have been swift to criticise the morons who disrupted the Liechtenstein national anthem, but the vocal minority who indulged in this behaviour appear willing to promote a caricature of what a Scotland fan should be which will sit uneasily with the majority in the country. Booing any anthem is poor form, but the actions last night suggest an infantile approach toward nationalism.
The game itself was as difficult as more sober judges had warned – this was a side only recently comprehensively beaten by sides a rung or two above Scotland on the ladder of international teams.
Stephen McManus sold the opener, expertly taken by the impressive Mario Frick, but made amends by heading home the winner, deep into added-on time which looked likely to produce serious injury to Scotland’s qualification hopes. In between, Kenny Miller broke a scoring drought for his country, with a strike that would be more regularly praised were it against more impressive opponents or in more meaningful circumstances. Although there were a number of problems on the night, it all rests on the balance in midfield, which was horrendous from the start.
Darren Fletcher plays, and often plays well, for one of Europe’s best teams. He is a regular in the side and a favourite of a manager who has achieved enough to dismiss criticism from most quarters. Lee McCulloch is an effective, hard-working, combative player, and Scot Brown, on occasion, has shown enough at national level to gain a place. However, none of them are playmakers – and to expect any of them to direct a game from midfield is, even allowing for the poverty of the opposition, rather optimistic. To line up all three in a match where you will have the majority of possession and be expected to take the game to the opposition seems ridiculous.
For all the subtle differences, they all essentially perform similar roles for their club sides and, with the greatest respect to the Rangers player, when Lee McCulloch is the most impressive midfielder you sense there may be a problem with creativity. Deploying these three in a game against Spain may well prove effective, but twice now Levein has been found to be too negative in approach and this may come back to haunt him. Those so quick to lambast and demonise Barry Ferguson may now wish they had done less to convince the ex-Rangers legend that returning to be booed and act as a focal point for grievance was a non-starter and may have a lot to consider this day after the nightmare before.
That McCulloch should be booked for a stereotypical case of ‘push me, pull me, hold me, cuddles’ suggests his reputation precedes him even to the eastern parts of the European continent. Consider for a moment that the various assaults on Alan Hutton – one of which was so awful that it is quite possible the referee ended up forgetting to book the player - are seen in the letter of the laws of the game as equal with the offence committed by McCulloch. The governing bodies could do with having a look at this.
Speaking of Alan, ex-Ranger Hutton is today fortunate not to be lying in a hospital bed. In two successive games, Scotland have suffered at the hands (and feet) of some tackling which could charitably be called ‘unsophisticated’ and more realistically termed ‘disgraceful’.
If Levein was concerned by the aggression of Lithuania, he must have had to close his eyes when watching the DVD of the Liechtenstein match – perhaps the refusal to furnish the Scots with the footage from the previous game with Spain was due to the difficulty in gaining a certificate. Lee Wallace was stretchered off after beating booted up in the air in a manner reminiscent of the worst excesses of Ayrshire junior clashes. Fletcher had cause to remonstrate with the official after being on the receiving end of a nasty stamp and full-back Hutton become so incensed with the deliberate thuggish attacks on his person he ran the risk of receiving his marching orders. Last night’s referee was quite strict on some matters – ensuring a first-half free-kick was taken from the precise blade of grass – but he and his officials did little to punish the cynical and premeditated abuse of the second period in particular.
Last night also saw one of the final nails in the coffin for a Scottish folk-hero: James McFadden. The last time someone played so badly for Scotland was during a women’s international. The only surprise was he made it to half-time, thereafter replaced by an impressive reincarnation of The Doors front-man, who showed the type of guile and urgency necessary and oh-so-painfully devoid from the performance of Jimbo Scruffpants. The crying after the Lithuania game – “Why wasn’t Faddy playing from the start?!” – seems a little misplaced. Occasional super-sub (sic) should be the role for the future involvement of the Birmingham player.
The last-gasp goal, combined with events in Prague, now offer Scotland a little consolation. After the next two games we will know if it was a case of postponing the post-mortem or whether the patient may yet have some hope for a longer life.