Scotland: Braveheart of Football

Full disclosure, before we begin – I am English. I could argue that I’m British but that doesn’t really work with international football. I have Scottish friends – wonderful people – and I love the country there so much that we holiday there at least once a year. However, that is all lip service to your average Scotland football fan; England too, for that matter, I suppose.

Allow me to take you back, though, to my childhood and my first World Cup. Everybody remembers their first, and it is invariably forever their favourite. There have been brilliant tournaments since, of course. The first tournament that I was actually aware of was Euro 1996, held in England and featuring that historic match versus Scotland with the famous Gazza goal. But in 1998, when I was fully fledged in my football fandom, I saw down cross-legged on the floor at the tender age of 12 to watch the opening match of France ’98.

When you are so young, the only tangible knowledge of Brazil is that they are brilliant at football. I didn’t know where Rio de Janeiro was but I knew who Ronaldo was. And I knew full-well, as a child from the north of England who loved his national side, both where Scotland was and that they were not traditionally, at least by comparison, very good at football.  Yet here they were, walking out in Paris – in kilts, of course…is that a Scottish Haka? – to line up alongside the greatest national side in the world.

I should also add, for context of the feelings that were about to rush over me, that I am a Blackburn Rovers fan.

As I sat there gazing up at the television screen and the camera manoeuvred its way down the line-ups, presumably mouth gaping at the sight of Ronaldo and Rivaldo and Roberto Carlos etc; all experts at the beautiful game lit up in gold. Suddenly, another flash of gold caught my attention – the flowing golden locks of Colin Hendry “He plays for Blackburn!” Technically, he didn’t any longer. He had left us at the end of that very season to return to Scotland with Rangers. And I think I had known somewhere in the back of my logical mind that Blackburn Rovers players had played for England (gone are those days, sadly), most notably Alan Shearer.

But for whatever reason, seeing Hendry stood there dripping in pride and determination, affected me. I had an affiliation then; Scotland were no longer just a neighbouring nation or rival. They were a team I wanted to do well. I won’t patronise or lie to you and say I denounced all my English support in favour of Scottish. But I think it affected me in a profound way in footballing terms.

In my adulthood, I have followed Blackburn but also have friends who are Burnley fans, attended Preston games with my brother, Accrington games with my parents, Manchester United games with my wife and Manchester City games with my brother-in-law. I became less an exclusive supporter of Rovers but rather a follower of football in general.

So, there I sat, glued to the television, not only awe-struck by the entertaining theatrics of Brazil, but also by the dogged determination of Scotland, and in particular the warrior I knew so well. We all know how it ended; Brazil got the victory 2-1, but it was by no means the walkover many had expected.  Scotland battled and so did Hendry. He was Blackburn’s Braveheart, he was Scotland’s Braveheart, he was our Braveheart. I think it was William Wallace who (allegedly) said, “Give me the strength to die well.”

It was that curtain-raising match that sticks in my mind so strongly from that tournament. Yes, I remember England vs Argentina with that Michael Owen goal and Beckham’s red card, as well as the incredible final with Brazil getting turned over by the hosts, France. But that match means the most to me.

This summer, 26 years later, I will be watching again as Scotland open the show, this time versus another major football heavyweight in Germany. There is a defender called Hendry – Jack Hendry, no relation as far as I can tell – and a former Blackburn Rovers defender in the squad in Grant Hanley. The omission of current Blackburn Rovers defender, Dom Hyam is a travesty, in my humble and biased opinion. But nevertheless, I will be firmly throwing my support behind The Tartan Army with the same enthusiasm as that 12-year-old boy watching his Braveheart go into battle.