The Tartan Army crossed an ocean and became the story, showing confidence, imagination and belonging that the team itself seemed to lack. What if Scotland has not failed to produce greatness at all, but simply taught its young people to seek it in the stands?

Scotland did not just arrive in Boston for a World Cup. It arrived with an antidote: joy without branding, identity without weaponry, and a national instinct for putting traffic cones on pomposity. The Tartan Army reminded a city what it feels like to be silly, unguarded and completely yourself.

This isn’t about some wanky 'journey' or 'manifesting your dreams' pish by thinking positive thoughts while doing fuck all