The much maligned absence of characters in modern day football made the recent death of Ally MacLeod all the more poignant.
He is, of course, indelibly linked to Scotland's ill-fated expedition to Argentina in 1978. "We'll get a medal" Ally proclaimed. Guess what? I believed him. Therein lies my discomfort with the MacLeod legacy. I can live with the fact that he lifted the nation to the highest of heights, then had us plumbing the deepest of depths. You win some, you lose some. What really pissed me off was that he conned ME. As one who fancies himself as knowing a thing or two about the funny old game, my vanity found it hard to accept that I'd bought into all the Ally's Tartan Army shite. Jesus Christ, I even bought the feckin record!!!
But my bitterness has mellowed over the years. With the great benefit of hindsight, I can now see that Ally was let down by a number of his players and, with the SFA blazers also doing their bit to unsettle the squad, the manager was always fighting a losing battle. I actually grew to feel sorry for him because I firmly believe that he missed out on the nationwide adulation he craved due to the cruel hand of fate.
The Scotland side which won the Home International Championship in 1977 has to be one of the best in history. Jardine and McGrain were among the best full-backs in the world, Burns and McQueen were solid at the heart of the defence, there were players like Rioch, Masson, Gemmill, Hartford and Souness all competing for midfield berths, Dalglish and Jordan did the business up front and Bud Johnston's pace created mayhem on the wing.
The team was a joy to behold. The after-match celebrations at Wembley were a declaration of Scotland's supremacy but, on closer examination, they were also the beginning of the end. Sure, the 3-1 hammering of Czechoslovakia a few months later was another top-notch performance but the cracks were beginning to show at the all-important Anfield clash with Wales. It had taken a superb save from Alan Rough to keep the scoresheet blank, then a bit of cheating from Joe Jordan turned the game Scotland's way. As Arthur Montford so loudly declared, it was "Argentina here we come!'. I'll bet he wishes we hadn't bothered.
By the time Scotland got to Cordoba, having failed to win any of their three home internationals, Ally's knitting was unravelling big time. Injury and diabetes combined to keep Danny McGrain out of the squad, Gordon McQueen was injured but was included in the party because Ally reckoned he'd be fit for the second stage and Andy Gray, although on fire with Aston Villa, was left at home. Most significant of all, age was beginning to catch up with Rioch and Masson so the midfield area, on which MacLeod relied so heavily, was hardly firing on all cylinders.
It didn't take long for our lot to be found out. After a dream start in the opening game against Peru, Scotland were gubbed 3-1 and it got worse when we could only draw 1-1 with Iran, a team the manager had written off as looking like "a load of holy pictures'. Of course, Scotland then rallied and produced arguably our best ever World Cup Finals performance by beating eventual runners-up Holland 3-2…but it was not enough.
It has been suggested that, with Scotland leading 3-1 at one point, we were just one goal away from qualifying on goal difference and this was repeated in countless recent obituaries. But that is not the case. Had Scotland done what they had to do against Holland, FIFA would undoubtedly have applied some sanction in response to Bud Johnston's failure of a post-Peru dope test. So maybe it wasn't a bad thing that we had to make do with a glorious failure, rather than one due to a deduction of points. The last thing Scottish football fans need is an anti-FIFA chip on the shoulder.
It did not pass unnoticed that there were those inside the Scotland camp who did a lot to undermine morale. Certain players, most notably Lou Macari, complained about money. Typically, the SFA hadn't settled this issue prior to leaving home and the manager found himself being the unwilling mediator between players and the Association. Never having represented his country as a player, he was perhaps a little naive in this area, suggesting to the players that they should be proud to play in the World Cup and sort out the money thing later. Nor can the Bud Johnston nonsense have helped his situation.
Ally didn't last too long after Argentina. He was the manager so he was the scapegoat. That is the way it is in football…and he was largely responsible for many of his own problems. He refused to travel to spy on Peru and Iran because he arrogantly underrated them. And he certainly gave this Bear his first major Rangers v Scotland gripe when, after Derek Johnstone had scored 39 goals in the Gers' Treble winning season then netted Scotland's only two goals in the Home Internationals, he left DJ kicking his heals on the bench.
I cursed MacLeod loudly when he preferred Joe Harper to Johnstone against Iran and in the after-match rammy I recalled his long list of anti-Rangers crimes. After all, this was the same Ally MacLeod who had taken Ayr United back to the top division and was big in the mouth prior to the Gers' visits to Somerset Park. As if saying his team would beat Rangers wasn't bad enough, the bastard actually had the cheek to make it happen!!!
I was there in September 1969, among 25,225 shoe-horned into Somerset Park, when a last minute Colin Stein goal was meaningless in our 2-1 defeat, and a year later I saw Cutty Young get his first ever goal for Rangers when his o.g. made it 1-1, only for the self-same Cutty to rattle in Ayr's winner from a free-kick a few minutes later. Ally let his tongue do the work when he subsequently moved to Aberdeen (where he signed a big boy called McLeish!) and, although we had a good laugh when we gubbed his lot twice in a week on our way to the 75-76 Treble, he came back to haunt us when we lost 5-1 in a League Cup semi the following season.
All those previous convictions were added to the Argentina mess for which I held him responsible. Having moved to the Ayrshire area, I even had it out with him when I ventured into a pub he owned in Kilmarnock. Lets just say we agreed to differ. Only in later years did he get any sympathy from me and, when his death was announced, I couldn't help thinking how different it all might have been if the Argentina World Cup had been staged a year earlier.
LITTLE BOY BLUE