Scotland V Brazil '98

Scotland Kick off 98 World Cup Finals
Plans had been well laid the week before. Being a hard working Civil
Servant planning was required to ensure all my work was done before the
Brazil v Scotland match started. Or should we just escape for the
afternoon. As my boss was in Leeds at a meeting I decided to finish at
1.30pm have lunch at the local Paradise curry house and get a good seat
in the Pub in front of the Big Screen.
We had planned on a large party to gather for the afternoon. In the end
it was the Wee Scot and myself who trotted off to start the
proceedings. Word must have filtered around Victoria as we were the
only people in the Restaurant, apart from the two waiters who were
"producing the Popodoms", "bringing the Bhuna" and "recycling the
rice".
We ordered our usual starter - "Bottle of House Red please Guvnor",
funny this did not sound like Ian's Scottish accent most recently
referred to as an Aggressive Twang, well I think he said Twang.
Thinking that I might have to go home at sometime I suggested that we
eat as well.
Of course there is the obligatory phone call to the office to check
that things were still OK with both the Head Men out together. Not
really! We called to let Wayne know where we would be for the match.
This selection was achieved by indiscriminately going in every pub
between the office and the curry house. I have never seen Ian go in any
Pub without having a drink let alone making four such visits. You will
be pleased to know that the "Elusive Camel" in Wilton Road was
chosen.
By 2.30pm a management decision was required. Should we get another
bottle of Red or go straight to the Pub. I knew it was going to be a
bad day. We chose to leave, only to find when we had paid the bill that
the rain had started to persistently pour. After fully two minutes I
looked round to find Ian back in the restaurant ordering two glasses of
wine. We would have stayed there all afternoon if they had had a TV. A
bottle of wine was about ?4 cheaper in the restaurant. Rather than
watch the football we were invited to listen to some cricket stories. I
would rather watch Crystal Palace than listen to cricket stories.
We arrived at the pub prior to 3pm and as there was only two of us I
decided it would be safe to buy a round. Ian had immediately taken up
with two groups of people who had also gathered early to watch the
match. The group of three was Scottish and included 2 females. The
other faction was two blokes who admitted they would support anyone who
was Scotland's opponents. For obvious reasons we seemed to be sidling
with the girlies. Ian attempted to bring the two tables closer together
but I suspect this would be so that he would find easier to hit them if
they were nearer. I decided that I was not really going to actively
support England during this World Cup. This was to be a private protest
concerning the lack of Millwall players selected in the England squad.
I could also protest about the lack of South Londoners in the Millwall
team.
At 3.30 the opening ceremony commenced. They should not have bothered.
The only thing it was good for was encouraging people to go to the bar.
A friendly face had supplied a Scottish flag, which was duly displayed
under the big screen. The Pub started to fill. This was obviously
people that had not been clever enough to clear all their work
earlier.
Scotland kicked off the 1998 World Cup finals and within 3 minutes had
become the first team to let in a goal in the same finals. For the next
30 minutes Brazil had the upper hand without increasing the score line.
In the 38th minute, after a quite brutal tackle by a Brazilian,
Scotland were awarded a penalty. Upstepped John Collins the Scottish
player with the impeccable initials and he duly scored the equalizer.
Ian decided to celebrate as if the trophy was being paraded along the
street outside Celtic Park. This was as good as it gets as far as he
was concerned. He had a full glass of wine and was kissing and cuddling
young Betty who works for a local Recruitment Agency. Do you know what?
I am sure he was giving her all that attention because he wanted to get
a job off her. The fact that Scotland scored was an excuse.
He eventually put her down by half time and another bottle appeared. I
had to stay sober enough to avoid buying another drink so a degree of
balance had to be exercised. Somehow a telephone number was written in
Ian's diary. Little does he know that the particular number refers to
Battersea Dogs Home. When he rings up and asks to speak to Betty and is
told that she is away being 'wormed' I hope he does not blame me.
The second half saw Scotland defending well against some up tempo play
by the skillful Brazilians. Scotland had a couple of chances but always
seemed to be a player short against the controlled passing game of the
South Americans. Although the decider was scored by a Scottish player
it was in his own net and they were unable to equalize in the 17
minutes left to play.
After the game Ian was distraught. He had drunk too much, partied too
long and allowed Betty to be chatted by an English Suit who had the
deepest sympathy for her as he had once read a Scottish Holiday
Brochure. Nearly as good as my story that I had lived in Scotland for 5
weeks when I first got married. Although it was before Mrs Thatcher
decided to improve Scottish life I was unable to get a job. My CV at
the time said No qualifications and English spoken. I understand that
seeking employment in Dundee around Christmas time is not the best
choice for a career move.
I got home at about 8.30pm in time to watch the second match but I did
not have the nerve to turn it on. It took me 20 minutes to find out why
my daughter was calling me Mr. Mudd. I appear to have lost the wife's
glasses in the car and she said my name would be mud when I got
home.
If only I could get my two boys to be interested in football we could
share the blame. The wife says that I am more interested in the wine
than the football and I have to agree. As long as the wine is French
and Red I don't care who is playing.