Spain 2—0 Scotland.

Referee Serdar Gözübüyük has a shocker as Scotland go down as expected in the heat of Seville. Two late goals from Rodri (73 minutes) and Sanget (87 minutes) give Spain victory. Sanget’s goal looked more like a Ryan Porteous own goal. Aaron Hickey, who had a fine game, inexplicably falling over and losing control of the ball, which just about summed up Scotland’s hopes of qualifying on the night.

Ironically, Spain on Sunday, in Oslo can do it for the Scottish nation. Odds on they probably will.

Scotland had hung on until half-time seeing little of the ball. I’m used to this watching Celtic. We usually have 70-80% possession. The diddy team, in this case Scotland, employs, what is called a low block. In other words, everyone behind the ball. The Scotland coach, Steve Clarke is the antithesis of Angeball. He’s Lowball Clarke.

It’s worked for us so far and got us almost, but not quite, qualification to the World Cup. The diddy team needs to ride their luck is one of the generalisations when we win. With plenty of corners and shots coming in Mikel Merino’s blocked cross-come shot hit by Oyarzabal coming off of the inside of the post and rolling along the line was as close as it gets without scoring. A few minutes later in the first-half Morata did have the ball in the net, but was so clearly offside this referee impersonator didn’t give it. McGinn, for example,  wiped out by who flicks it by Carvajal on the edge of the Spanish area being ignored, while Scottish players were penalised for much less.

For the diddy team to win the goal has got to play a blinder. Think back to Frasier Foster when we (Celtic) beat Barcelona. They called him something ridiculous like ‘the yellow wall’. Gunn had little to do other than kick the ball out. And he’d no chance with either goal.

Andy Roberson went off injured, but it didn’t change the trajectory of the game. Attack against defence.

For the diddy team to win they must take their chances. These tended to generally come from long balls, free-kicks and throw ins. Scotland play like Clarke’s old team Kilmarnock but not on plastic pitches. Lyndon Dykes, for example, our main asset in the air, coming out to take throw-ins shows were we are.

Scotland had a few chances, perhaps slightly less than the more dominant Spain, but more that you’d think. Early in the second-half, for example, McTomminay’s defected pass hit Dykes and fell to John McGinn. I don’t think our local hero had a good game. He looked like shooting, but played in Christie, who was both onside and inside the box unmarked. Unfortunately, McGinn’s pass was fired at him waist high, when it would be far simpler to roll him in.

Then we scored. I know. You’re looking at this and saying, how could Scotland score and Spain win 2—0. That’s where conspiracy theories come in useful. Either the referee has somehow been got at or he is totally incompetent. I’ll let you decide.

Scott McTominay hadn’t seen the ball until he scored. Yes, I’m still claiming it as a goal, even though it was disallowed by VAR, the men in black. After his Manchester United heroics McTominay must think he’s in a cartoon script and everything he does will turn into the winning goal.

Ryan Christie, who had a fine game, even for Ryan Christie, turned Carvajal inside out on the edge of the box, near the by-line. The Real Madrid player pushed the Bournemouth player off the ball. For Scotland, this is as good, asi it gets. It's almost a shy. Get all the big men up from the back. You know the script.

Scott McTominay’s been writing his own script recently. He looked up and whipped the ball into the top corner. An absolute belter of a goal. Even I got excited. We know what happened next. Fucking robbed. First it was classified as a foul on their keeper. Then as Jack Henry being offside. Not quite up there with the Liverpool goal stolen in their game against Spurs, but as Calimero used to say, ‘It’s an injustice’. He should know. He’s a cartoon chicken and not a Spanish national. Referee chickened out. We might even come good in the end on Sunday and probably will limp over the line. Glorious defeat has rarely felt so bitter.