Euro 2020 Diary Day 4 – Hello, I’m David Marshall, please stop throwing things at me

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Twenty-three years Scotland had waited to reach a major final. That’s a long time, 23 years. I was five years old when Scotland kicked off France ‘98 against Brazil, I’ll be 29 when this tournament finishes. All that time and it took less than hour for Scotland fans to decide: “Actually, we’ve not been missing much”.

I can’t figure out what he was doing…I really can’t…

There was some level of pessimism before the game when Steve Clarke announced his starting 11. A 4-5-1 with some questionable inclusions. Most notably, perhaps, the inclusions of Ryan Christie and Steven O’Donnell. SOD, his nickname apparently, showed his worth however with an excellent challenge on Christie who was driving into the box. Now the fact that Christie and SOD are on the same team is immaterial, you’ve got to take what you get in these situations. The tackle was even more impressive when you consider it seem to knock Christie out of existence, if he hadn’t been substituted for Che Adams I would have forgot he was still playing.

like…why? Why was he that far out? To what end?

To be fair, Scotland didn’t actually play that bad in the first half but it all felt very erratic and without much plan. That’s unfair actually, there was a clear plan. Get the ball to Andy Robertson.

Was he maybe going to the shops…maybe he needed to go for a pee? Maybe he was asking to go for a pee?

Generally, where one man can make a difference in the game you do need the other 10 to at least contribute. That simply wasn’t the case, not in an attacking sense at least.

Did he see his mum in the crowd maybe and wanted to say hello?

We are biased as Rangers fans and yes we all wanted Nathan Patterson to play. That is a fact and I will hold my hands up to it. However, what is also a fact is that Patterson is a far superior player than SOD. It was baffling to leave him out and then played SOD so far up the park in a position he clearly wasn’t comfortable in. Maybe it takes more than being a journeyman right back and the manager’s wee pal to make it at international level?

Maybe he forgot to set his Sky box to record the 5pm game?

A stunning header from Patrik Schick gave the Czechs the lead at half time and to be perfectly honest I didn’t expect Scotland to come back from there. The manager had got his selection wrong and was now being punished for it. The Czechs simply had that little bit more composure and quality.

Is he like a big Amy McDonald fan and spotted her at the side of the picture and wanted to get his picture taken?

The Czech’s started the second half well and then Scotland came into it a wee bit. Perhaps the worst thing that could happen to Scotland occurred when Jack Hendry had a shot hit the bar and he convinced himself for five minutes he was a footballer. Hendry’s second shot led to Schick’s incredible second goal from the halfway line.

Ok let’s talk about it. Taking nothing away from the finish, what in the name of Craig Brown’s wee black book was David Marshall, yes that one, doing that far out his goal. A good forty yards out for Christ sake! Furfuksake Christie! Etc.

That game actually summed up Marshall perfectly. He’s a decent shot stopper with abysmal game intelligence and he’s always got a howler in him. For years I’ve been getting ribbed for having the same name as this arsehole and I knew in October it was too good to be true.

The cronyism in the media and the refusal of journalists and pundits to criticise either Clarke for his team selection or Marshall for the second goal is not only baffling but insulting as a reader/viewer. This patronising “Och unlucky boys, we go again at Wembley” is garbage. An attitude that has infected Scottish football for decades and part of the reason we never get anywhere.

Anyway, the other two games were fun in their own way. Well, Sweden are dreadfully dull and Lustig is still a Willy. So that’s good.

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