5 James McFadden

Published on Friday 28 December 2007 13:19

FOOTBALL HERO

Killer performances in the qualifiers for the 2008 European Championships restored our pride in the national football team

There is no doubt that newspaper sub-editors are quirky, clever people, the way they make words twist and turn in verbal acrobatics. It's a bit like cryptic crosswords: your mind either works that way or it doesn't. And so there was a fair percentage of the population who racked their brains at the headlines of Scotland's biggest red top on the day Scotland played their crucial European qualifying match against Italy. Who was this warrior taking up the entire front page who looked like he had escaped from a Roman amphitheatre and should have lion's blood smeared round his mouth? Was "Fadiator" a new actor? An X Factor contestant? "What we do in life echoes through eternity," the headline said and, of course, it all fell instantly into place. It must be football, then.

The Italians have Armani, pasta and men who, according to a recent poll, top the European league of sex appeal as well as being passable with a football. We have Fadiator, the gladiator James McFadden. Would we swap him? No, we wouldn't. Never let it be said that the Scots lose their heads when it comes to the beautiful game. We're a dour bunch normally. It's hard to be positive when the cold nibbles your extremities in winter and the vampire midges suck your blood in summer. No wonder we're presented as the "we're all doomed" nation in television comedies. But when it comes to football, Scotland finds its essential positivity, its eternal optimism. This time. Maybe this time. Come on, Fadiator.

There were few who fancied Scotland's chances when they were drawn against the two top teams in Europe – France and Italy – in the Euro 2008 qualifiers. But McFadden's contribution to 2007 was to give the nation a whole year of pride and self-belief – tinged with a little incredulity – by knocking in four goals in Scotland's qualifying matches. The most stunning, a winning goal against France in Paris, left Scotland almost qualifying for a major tournament for the first time in ten years. Almost. But never mind. We were magnanimous – and voluble – in defeat against Italy. The next day the tabloids devoted pages 1-10, 14-16, 20-33 and 4,000-10,000 to the match. Imagine if we'd won.

Scotland had won against France in Glasgow – a wonderful achievement that was hailed as one of the national team's greatest ever wins. For McFadden to go on and sneak a winner on the Frenchmen's home ground was audacious by anyone's standards. But then, McFadden was the player nicknamed "cheeky boy" by ex-Scotland boss Bertie Vogts. The former Motherwell and Everton player missed the plane home after an away game as a youngster, following a night on the tiles. He was, in those days, a gallus cockatoo with brightly streaked hair. But 2007 showed new depths to McFadden, not just as a player but as a person. He married, and requested that instead of giving wedding presents, people donated money to the hospital that had treated his premature son.

As a player, it wasn't only his killer performances when it mattered that were impressive this year. It was the way he handled the pressure. Ironically, 2007 was an indifferent year for the Scotland hero at club level and his form didn't make him an automatic choice for the Italy game. But he made clear that if Alex McLeish wanted to pick someone else, he "certainly wouldn't be sulking about". He kept a refreshing sense of perspective – possibly acquired from events off the field – about the importance of the game. "At the end of the day, it's only a football match," he said.

McFadden didn't score in that crucial decider against Italy, though he missed a good chance. But he had already played such an important part in rebuilding pride in Scottish football that it didn't dent the fans' affection for him. He earns his place at number five in the poll for services to the dented national ego. And besides, anyone could see that the referee, who gave a last-minute free kick to Italy (from which they scored), needed glasses.

Some people don't really understand the Scottish psyche. English essayists for a start. Charles Lamb obviously didn't care much for us. "I have been trying all my life to like Scotchmen and am obliged to desist from the experiment in despair," he wrote. "His taste never fluctuates. His morality never abates. He cannot compromise or understand middle actions. There can be but a right and a wrong."

Black and white, right and wrong? Charles Lamb can say what he likes. But we know the truth. We wuz robbed.

Catherine Deveney