It can be agony to support Scotland in sport

I am unashamedly Scottish. It means that with a few notable exceptions when it comes to golf in particular and sport in general, my life has been filled with heartbreak and disappointment.

The exceptions? Sandy Lyle winning The Open and The Masters, Paul Lawrie winning the 1999 Open, Sam Torrance holing the winning putt at the 1985 Ryder Cup. And you can throw in Andy Murray’s Wimbledon, US Open and Olympic successes.

On the other side of the coin, there were all Colin Montgomerie’s major near-misses, including at the US Open exactly 20 years ago.

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Now I know that I am primarily here to write about golf but I want to share with you what it feels like to be a Scottish football fan.

The World Cup has kicked off. Sixty years of hurt? It’s coming home? Give me strength! Just try being a Scottish football fan.

You have Harry Kane. We have Lyndon Dykes! You have Jordan Pickford. We have 43-year-old Craig Gordon! We have Grant Hanley. You have Marc Guehi. We have Kenny McLean and you have Jude Bellingham!

I hardly know where to start but let’s kick off with the 1978 World Cup, shall we?

I was at Anfield for the qualifier against Wales when the referee was the only person in the ground who didn’t see Joe Jordan score with his hand. No matter - we had made it.

Our manager was Ally McLeod, who convinced the nation that we had a team that was good enough to win the World Cup. Around 30,000 of us swallowed it, to the extent that we turned up at Hampden Park to give our boys a rousing send-off as they headed to Argentina. To be fair, our squad included the likes of Kenny Dalglish, Graeme Souness, Bruce Rioch and Martin Buchan. What we would do for players of that calibre now. Every top English team contained at least one Scot.

We were facing Peru, Iran and the Netherlands in the group stages. What could possibly go wrong? Plenty, as it turned out.

Our optimism was short-lived. Willie Johnston was sent home in disgrace after failing a drugs test.

I vividly recall our opening encounter against Peru. They were meant to be cannon fodder. Nobody told Teofilo Cubillas. I threw my slipper at the TV as Peru scored their third goal.

But Iran were up next and a comfortable victory would still give us hope. Comfortable victory? We drew 1-1. Against Iran! Thus proving there are no easy games at this level!

And so it all came down to our final game against the Netherlands. We had to beat one of the best teams on the planet by three clear goals. Some chance!

Unbelievably, we somehow found ourselves leading 2-1. And then Archie Gemmill danced his way through the Dutch defence to score one of the best World Cup goals of all time. I remember Bobby Charlton going bananas in the commentary box. But the dream was alive. Or at least it was until the Dutch went up to the other end two minutes later and scored to make it 3-2. We were heading home with our tails between our legs. My abiding memory of that miserable campaign is of McLeod with his head in his hands - like the rest of the nation.

Four years earlier we were unbeaten and still failed to reach the knockout stages! Ahead of the tournament, manager Willie Ormond allowed the players go for a night out in the coastal town of Largs and, in the early hours, winger Jimmy Johnstone decided to commandeer a rowing boat. Only problem was, he had no oars and began to drift out to sea. David Hay and Eric Schaedler tried to rescue him, but the boat they purloined had a hole in it so they frantically rowed back to the shore. Johnstone had to be rescued by the coastguard, becoming front page news in the process. Perfect preparation!

We started our campaign by thrashing the mighty Zaire 2-0. And then came Brazil. Unbelievably, we held them to a goalless draw.

Victory in the final game against Yugoslavia would take Scotland through. Even a draw would have been good enough if Brazil failed to beat Zaire by three clear goals. But they did, winning 3-0.

The Scots fell a goal behind with 10 minutes left, with Jordan's late equaliser not enough. Yugoslavia, Brazil and Scotland finished level on points, with the team who scored fewest against Zaire eliminated. And that, of course, was Scotland.

And then there was 1982. Finally we had a proper manager in Jock Stein. John Wark said: "It must be the best squad we've ever taken to a finals - and the best manager.

"We had players who'd won everything in the game, they needed someone who commanded their respect and big Jock did it just by walking into the room. To this day I believe that was our chance."

We kicked off against New Zealand, a proper potential banana skin, and cruised past them 5-2.

Next up were those pesky Brazilians again. OMG, David Narey only went and put us ahead with a screamer. But that only served to annoy them and they thumped us 4-1, with Eder scoring a wonder goal. So yet again it all came down to the final game, this time against the Soviet Union. We drew 2-2 and crashed out on goal difference. AGAIN!

So failing to qualify maybe isn’t so bad because at least we don’t build up our hopes. And there are definitely no expectations this time. Oh, and guess what? We have to play Brazil again!

It all kicked off with Haiti. We beat them 1-0 with a deflected goal and it was like we had won the World Cup. I sat through the game. It was torture. Haiti are the 84th- ranked team in the world. We now have to face Morocco, semi-finalists in Qatar, and Brazil - yes, THAT Brazil.