The experience of being a Scotland fan is like seeing a pound coin on the ground and bending over to find it superglued to the pavement.
Almost without fail it will feel as if the stars have aligned in front of us, only for it to transpire that, like a cosmic Newton’s cradle, they were merely ensuring maximum momentum for the ultimate whack in the sporran.
Those of us elderly enough to have been the major tournament course with the Scotland side before will have recognised the signs in the days since the surprisingly competent Wembley showing.
As the first three groups took their final shapes, it gradually became clear that a win over Croatia would be sufficient to guarantee progress to the knockout stage.
Not only that, but keen students of the formula used to allocate third-place finishers to the bracket will have noted that the failure of Groups B and C to provide candidates with more than three points raised the distinct possibility that the Hampden winner would stay in Glasgow for the last 16, and face what may well be an upset winner of the section in which Spain have so toiled.
Such serendipity does not befall the Tartan Army. It had to have been a trap.
But to its eternal credit, it was one the nation walked into knowingly and with good cheer.
The streets of Glasgow and beyond were awash with men, women and children bedecked in dark blue, even though, for the majority, they were travelling to watch at home rather than in the ground or the fan zone.
In football, the maxim that it’s the taking part that counts rarely holds true, but here was one example where, after so long in the doldrums, simply to live the occasion itself was a win, even if the result was not.
