THE country used to stop whenever Scotland played. Now the country has stopped watching, thinking or even caring very much about the Scotland national football team.

We would never miss a home game, even friendlies. It would have been like missing Christmas. Utterly unthinkable.

Everything about Hampden I loved. The smell and noise which came from a crowd of – and I know my memory plays tricks and I romanticise such things - about a million people, at least to a young boy.

When we were away, our living room was packed. It was great to sit with adults, listening to their chat while wishing Kenny Dalglish a hat-trick. This is the 1980’s. Scotland did get beat on the odd occasion but aside from perhaps playing Brazil in the 1982 World Cup, all of us felt we had at least a chance no matter the opposition.

My first game was a 0-0 with Portugal in March of 1980. We were done out of three penalties, by the way. I never saw us lose live until Wales did a job on us in 1984. Considering which country I come from, that’s not a bad record.

Most lads at school had a Scotland strip. I even had an Alan Rough yellow goalie top for some reason. I did not, however, own the yellow away kit with the blue band across the shorts – a step too far even for a 12-year-old – but the blue home strip was never off me.

And when I got a older, my mate Dave and I would go to ever home match. We’d stand in the Rangers End, as we called it, and shout, bawl and sing. Dave was a reluctant conscript. He’s a Motherwell fan, was used to watching bad football, so why would he spend his down time inviting more disappointment from the game?

However, he went, we all went, because it was Scotland. We kicked every ball, replayed every goal in the playground the next day at school. It meant everything.

You don’t see kids wear Scotland strips these days. You’ll spot the occasional Spain or Argentina top with Messi written on it, and even at the five-aside complexes it’s rare to see that red lion. That's depressing.

Pubs don’t heave when the team is on the telly. In fact, they advertise a free pint of Scotland win knowing full well their profit margins won’t be affected. The ‘I wouldn’t watch that lot if they were playing in my back garden’ brigade are growing steadily in numbers.

Low crowds, players asking not be considered, bad results, awful performances and the possibility of failing to get to another tournament – it’s been 20 years now – when we have two ways of qualifying for the European Championships in 2020. This is the lowest the national team has sunk.

Alex McLeish over the next six days is trying to win a three team league including Israel and Albania. He might quite possibly be in the process trying to save his job. But there is a lot more at stake.

He and his players, those bothered enough to turn up, might not know it but they are playing for the soul of the Scotland national side.

A generation and more have never watched the team at a major tournament. The support has noticeably got older. Young folk are staying away. With every passing miserable defeat, it gets increasingly difficult to lecture them on their lack of patriotism.

Scotland doesn’t matter anymore. At least not enough. International football is an unwanted break from the domestic game.

This is hardly the fault of McLeish, one of the finest to ever wear the dark blue, but if he can’t finish top this group then there is every chance the SFA, it’s their fault in case you were wondering, will act and sack the manager.

This would be harsh on a fine man but if we lose in Albania and then to Israel at Hampden, a far from improbable scenario, more of the country would be lost and might not come back to the national team again.

Hampden would never be full or even slightly busy for any match.

Passion has been replaced by indifference. Optimism by a pessimism Eeyore would find a bit too gloomy.

Some 38 years after I first fell in love with Scotland, a hell of a lot is resting on our brave lads working out a way to beat Albania. It's a 50/50 game. How did it come to this?

And Another Thing

GLENN Middleton doesn't really look much like a footballer close up.

He's too small, squat almost. Ah, but when he gets the ball at his feet, the Rangers winger's talent is there for all to see. Any young Scot who has the confidence and talent to go past defenders is alright with me. He's been in great form of late, scoring goals and making chances.

Middleton might be small but he's strong which allied with his ability is a winning combination. This 18-year-old has been a revelation so far in a Rangers jersey and he's only going to get better. It will be interesting to see how he develops.