Paw Broon - It's all doon the hill fae here

That wis certainly how it felt as Scotland’s faint remaining hopes o’ qualification were finally dashed by a thud and blunder performance against Belarus so lacklustre it wis reminiscent o’ the Bertie Vogts era.

A brilliant, barnstorming display in the final match against Slovenia, a team who had earlier beaten Italy and who were second seeds in the group, at least offered hope for the future, whilst leaving those onlookers who were witness to both games understandably begging the question, “Will the real Scotland please stand up?”.

At least we went out with a bang and not a whimper. But, out is still out, however ye wrap it up. The pain and heartache of not making it tae the Finals in Germany will only begin tae subside once England get knocked oot in the first round. Preferably in a humiliating fashion.

Still, look oan the bright side though, eh?

Germany is shite. It’s full o’ Germans. And let’s be honest, one German wis mair than enuff tae screw us, so imagine the irreparable damage mixin wi’ 82 million o’ the basturds could inflict oan the nation’s psyche.

Not tae mention the irreparable damage mixin strong German Lager wi shots o’ Jagermeister could inflict oan the nation’s psycopaths.

Trust me, we’re better aff stayin at hame. And think o’ the money the travelling supporters will save.

Ho Hum.

Once again, the world’s biggest fitba party will be deprived of the presence of the world’s biggest fitba party animals, the incomparable Tartan Army.

Not tae be confused wi’ the world’s biggest fitba animals, the incomparable Inggerlund Neanderthals, who will be there, more’s the pity.

As will such footballing giants as Angola, Togo and Ivory Coast. Fuxxache. Thurs nae justice in the world of fitba.

Can we no get a transfer tae wan o’ they African qualifyin groups? It’s no bloody fair that, just because o’ an accident o’ geography, we ayewis huv tae play the likes o’ Italy, Germany and Holland in order tae get tae World Cup Finals.

Better still, FIFA should just huv a “wild card” entry available tae countries that dinnae qualify through the usual route. This wid go tae the country wi’ the fans most likely tae cause an outbreak o’ partying at the Finals. That wid be us every four years, nae bother.

Although ah suppose, in fairness, it might come doon tae a play-off between wursels and the Irish.

That wid be good, eh? A two-legged party played over two weekends in Dublin and Glasgow – 10,000 a side, winner being the team that scoops most bevvies. Red cards wid be dished oot fer boakin’ or sneaky spilling.

So, whilst Germany braces itself fer an outbreak of street-fighting the likes of which hasnae been witnessed in that country since the Russian Army entered Berlin in1945 and looks forward to being regaled with such side-splittingly hilarious chants as “Two World Wars and one World Cup, doo-dah, doo-dah” and “I’d rather be a Paki than a Kraut”, I’ll leave the last word on our ill-fated qualification attempt to the magnificent Tartan Army in Slovenia.

The British Consul in Slovenia, David Blogg (I kid ye not), who was on hand in Celje to offer any assistance required by the travelling fans, said after the game, “I’ve never seen so many drunk people in my life. There are about 5,000 drunk Scotsmen wandering around in their kilts and hiking boots. Six of them are lying in front of me, out cold. I hope they’re not on a plane home tonight, they’ll never make it.”

There were no arrests. But dinnae be too surprised if there’s a sudden spate of red-haired Slovenian babies in nine months time.

No Scotland in Germany?

It’s Germany’s loss.