Scottish Fitba - Ach! We're Awe Doomed, Yet Again

APOLOGIES for the lengthy silence, but, between other events at home and the fact, I simply did not care about Euro2016 coverage which was all about England, I have been absent from the blogsphere.

Not that I am all that willing to return – if the Euros coverage was AAE (all about England), then, the football coverage in the Scottish media has immediately reverted to the default position of only the Old Firm matters, and, frankly I am worried.

I am processing the data with a view to a weighty piece on Scotland's less than wonderful record in big tournaments, an the reasons for this. This is head-bursting stuff, too-much concentration on which is painful, but, suffice to say, I have absolutely no confidence in the ability of the great minds at Hampden to sort things out any time soon. And that's before we enter the mine field of post-Brexit European football (be afraid, be very afraid).

Brendan Rodgers will need time to sort-out the bloated squad he has inherited. I am pleased to note he has been trying-out young Scottish talent such as Scott Allen and Ryan Christie in pre-season games, but, I fear, the Celtic team which begins the new season is likely to be loaded with non-Scots. Across the city, Mark Warburton has taken apart the squad which won the Championship, and seems set on loading his Premiership squad with Englishmen who are barely household names in their own households – how are the mighty fallen.

If the recruitment policies of the respective managers work fair enough – the faithful will be kept on-side, but, what is happening at Celtic Park, at Ibrox, at Tynecastle and at other grounds such as Rugby Park, makes me despair even more for the future, dreich though it already appears, for Scottish football.

AS far as Euro2016 is concerned, now we are down to the final four – you have to feel, whichever side wins the France v Germany semi-final, will win the whole thing. However, if this season of the under-dog is bound to go into its death throes with under-dogs still rampant – then it has to be Wales.

JUST AS the great tenors and operatic divas live to play the great Opera Houses of the world – La Scala Milan, the New York Met, Sydney, so, the great footballers want to strut their stuff on the great stadia. Hampden Park, faded and shabby though it may have been for much of its life, is such an iconic stadium, which has played host to all the stellar soccer stars.

Ferenc Puskas and Alfredo de Stefano cemented their greatness there in 1960, before that, England's Stanley Matthews and Tom Finney had been cheered, even as they broke Scottish hearts, while Puskas, back in 1954, had electrified the stadium with the great Hungarian national team of the time. In 2002 Zinadene Zidane captivated the "Old Lady" with one of its greatest goals, just as, back in 1979 Diego Maradona signalled his arrival on the world stage with another memorable Hampden goal.

But, 50-years ago, on 25 June, 1966, Pele, arguably the greatest of them all, found the 105 metres x 68 metres Hampden pitch a difficult stage on which to perform.

Then, as now, Scotland was facing the awkward fact – football's biggest show was taking place in a neighbouring country, and, we were on the outside looking in. We had been cast in the role of sparring partners for better countries, preparing for bigger games by facing us. Portugal had already came and found us wanting, now Brazil, the reigning World Champions and the team everyone wanted to see, were dropping in to warm-up for the challenge of England, 1966, by playing Scotland.

Pele, ever since his electrifying eruption onto the world stage, as a 17-year-old in Sweden in 1958, had been seen as the greatest player in the world. Eight years on, at the height of his powers, he was the man all of Scotland and Great Britain wanted to see. His only previous appearance on the island where football had began had been in a low key club match, for Santos against Sheffield Wednesday, in 1962. The presence of the great man attracted 75,000 fans to Hampden for a Saturday evening match, more than 50,000 more than had turned up to watch Portugal, including Eusebio, one week earlier.

Pele and the Brazilians had been mobbed when training at Portland Park, Troon Juniors' tiny ground, during the week, but, Pele wasn't going to have it all his own way at Hampden, after Scotland team manager John Prentice named Jim Baxter, a player who never thought any player was better than him in the number 10 shirt, rather than the number 6 shirt he usually wore. The battle of the two 10s would be key in the game. Prentice, then in a period of experimentation, also gave Celtic sweeper John Clark his international debut, then, at the 11^th hour, called-up an almost unknown Hibs teenager named Peter Cormack for his debut.

First blood to Baxter, who, inside the opening minute, threaded an inch-perfect pass into the path of Celtic's Stevie Chalmers, who ran on to slot the ball behind the great Gilmar in the Brazilian goal. Scotland 1 Brazil 0. But, back came Brazil and parity was restored in 16 minutes, when Servillo beat Bobby Ferguson in the Scotland goal to equalise. And that's how it stayed, with neither side able to conjure-up a winning goal.

And what of Pele, did he light-up Hampden in the manner of the other greats? Well no. In fact, the great man was a peripheral figure for most of the game, mainly thanks to the man-marking job, in more ways than one, which a young Scottish player, Leeds United's Billy Bremner, winning only his seventh cap, did on the great man. There was seldom more than a sheet of paper between Pele and his marker, who got in several fierce knocks on his distinguished opponent. But, to be fair, at least once, Pele gave as good as he got. Bremner's attentions on the Brazilian icon did lead to a nose-to-nose confrontation between the fiery wee Leeds man and Gerson, after Bremner had hacked Pele down.

Gerson (8) has a word with Billy Bremner, who had just "marked" the grounded Pele

On the few occasions when Pele escaped Bremner's clutches, he invariably ran into Celtic's Clark. He certainly remembered the quiet Celt, recognising him immediately when they bumped into each other in a New York elevator years later.

A draw with the reigning World Champions satisfied Scottish honour. Goal Scorer Chalmers took home Pele's number 10 shirt; Brazil went on to the World Cup in England, where it all went wrong, as Pele and the other great Brazilians – Garrincha, Gerson and Jairzhino, were brutally kicked out of the tournament by cynical European defenders. They returned home, chastened, to be met with jeering fans at Rio airport – even an effigy of Pele being hung.

Scotland stumbled on, manager Prentice gave way to caretaker Malky MacDonald, then Bobby Brown, but, within a year of that Hampden game, Scotland were: "Unofficial World Champions" after beating England at Wembley, while Celtic were European Champions, and Rangers lost in the Cup-Winner's Cup final.

Yes, 1966 was a bad year for Scotland – and Pele, but, we recovered in 1967, Pele in 1970. What might the future hold 50-years on?

The teams on 25 June, 1966 were:

Scotland: Bobby Ferguson (Kilmarnock); John Greig (capt. Rangers), Willie Bell, Billy Bremner (both Leeds United), Ron McKinnon (Rangers), John Clark (Celtic), Alex Scott (Everton), Charlie Cooke (Chelsea), Stevie Chalmers (Celtic), Jim Baxter (Sunderland), Peter Cormack (Hibernian).

Brazil: Gilmar; Fidelis, Bellini (capt), Zito, Orlando, Paulo Henriques, Jairzinho, Gerson, Servilio, Pele, Amarildo.

Referee: Jim Finney (England).

Score: Scotland 1 Brazil 1.

Attendance: 74,933.