I HAD never seen Scotland play at a World Cup until last night.
I only really grasped the history of us being on the brink of qualifying a few hours before the Denmark game at Hampden last November, in a cartoonish “oh, right…” way, when older colleagues in the office explained the gravity of the match. I remember feeling a bit guilty that the significance of it had almost completely passed me by, and I was determined not to let that happen again.