One night in Miami: The Scotsmen of the apocalypse

Image source, Getty ImagesByScott MullenBBC Sport Scotland in MiamiPublished1 hour agoKylian Mbappe hovered surreptitiously in the shadows, only noticeable as the lights flickered off the beaming white number 10 on his broad royal blue back. Just a handful of yards away, Lamine Yamal scanned the scene. Scouring. Waiting. Four Colombians huddled together, discussing tactics, plotting their next move. And in the far corner, Erling Haaland, carrying a plate of chips, returned to Mrs Haaland amid the chaos and through the plumes spewing out of the smoke machine. It's Friday night. It's downtown Miami. It's party time. The bar in East Flagler Street pulsed with life and danced to the beat of the World Cup. A multitude of nations were represented in this local hostelry. Mingling. Chatting. Dancing. Absorbing. In the centre of the floor, five figures stood out from the crowd, marked by their own shiftiness and pre-occupation amid the chaos. A giant projector screen at the end of the room lit up with the moving image of Belgium against New Zealand in the World Cup, the big tie of the penultimate night of group games. As the music cranked up and the buckets of beer rattled with shards of ice, the five Scotsmen of the apocalypse drank studiously while looking the other way. On every second smaller television dotted around the bar, Egypt took on Iran, carrying the dreams of two nations. The group's gaze barely shifted as the game kicked off thousands of miles away. Scotland's World Cup hopes at 0.07% - these are results they need Published4 hours agoIs a former England striker right about reasons for Scottish football's ills? Published17 hours agoWhat do numbers tell us about Scotland's World Cup attacking intent? Published22 hours agoWhile Scotland head coach Steve Clarke had given up hope of his team escaping out of their World Cup group, this particular bunch of Scottish natives clearly had not. The Scots, crippled by a deadly combo of profligacy and self destruction, needed snookers. In fact, they needed snookers while playing blind-folded and without a cue ball. Even John Higgins, the Wizard of Wishaw, would struggle to get them out of this jam. To progress, Clarke's side need four fellow third-placed teams to finish on three points with a goal difference worse than -3, or with fewer points. Until Spain's victory earlier in the Miami night, every settled group had done the opposite. Now, with Egypt winning, it looked as though the Scots would require two from Saturday's three unsettled groups to come through for them. A monumentally tall order, but not an impossible one, given the punch of the air from the Scots in this bar as Mahmoud Saber turned in Egypt's opener. Nine minutes later, as a man in a Premier League top unsuccessfully attempted to charm a young lady a few feet away at the bar, Iran levelled, puncturing the mood at one particular table. The music seemed to get even louder as the game went on and the tension for the group of Scots increased. The room swayed and samba-danced to the pulse as the play raged on. In the corner, Lionel Messi was moving almost in slow motion, his arms methodically swinging against an imaginary tide. They say rhythm is a dancer. Leo was dancing to his own rhythm here. The apocalypse brothers remained unmoved as the game raged into the second half, Egypt retreating further as Mohamed Salah departed. Near the bar, a man with an obscure top passed around a World Cup trophy which barely registered with the kilted Scot and pals, their eyes fixed on the game beaming in from Seattle. Scotland have brought the party to the United States, and it was maybe this influence that prompted the DJ to whack on Freed From Desire. The lads barely flinched, only allowing themselves a brief flicker of enjoyment on the second chorus. It was quickly wiped out as Iran's push for a winner intensified, Mehdi Taremi scudding the bar, causing a visible gasp to emanate from the table below. The final seconds provided a private tartan torture chamber for this small clan engulfed by conviviality. Shoja Khalilzadeh found the net in the dying seconds for Iran. Heads were plunged into hands. Messi continued his slow-motion dancing. Alas, no. The game would trundle to a draw, leaving Scotland needing all three groups to go in their favour - a probability of 0.07% - for their World Cup party to continue. In this downtown Miami bar, the clock hit 01:00. Mbappe had left, the three Lamine Yamals had long since shot the crow. As the bar emptied and the big nations left, Scotland were left still standing. Moments later the apocalypse brothers wandered out into the hot and humid Florida night to continue what little time they have left of their World Cup party. Everything you need to know about the World Cup

One night in Miami: The Scotsmen of the apocalypse

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