When Belarus improbably came to Scotland’s rescue on Saturday evening, it got me thinking. Is this meant to be?

I have never been one to be overly romantic about storylines, scripts or destiny in football, but luck has been on Scotland’s side this campaign, luck that some Scotland fans may feel is long overdue.

Before Saturday, the Belarussians hadn’t yet recorded a point in qualifying, and Denmark had already hammered them 6-0 a month prior.

Any suggestion that the Danes could slip up at home was laughed off, this was not a permutation that was ever seriously considered.

Yet here we are. Scotland are 90 minutes away from the World Cup and dare I say it – without even being at their best.

They struggled in both games against bottom seeds Belarus, were outplayed twice by Greece, and registered just one shot on target against Denmark in the opening game.

But the points are in the bag, somehow, and that’s all that really matters.

Scotland’s spirited attempts at qualification since their last World Cup appearance in 1998 have added to the nation’s never-ending list of ‘glorious failures’. International football’s perennial nearly-men have a long-standing reputation for getting everyone’s hopes up, then crumbling when success appears almost inevitable.

Peru, Iran, Morrocco, Faroe Islands, Georgia, and the rest. All enough to send a shiver down a Scotsman’s spine.
But this time it feels different. There has been no glory and there has been no failure, not yet.

Maybe my delusion derives from the years of damage caused by following my country, or maybe there’s something in it.

Could this really be written in the stars?

“People can speculate and think that there’s other bodies that are looking after us, but we have to look after ourselves,” answered Steve Clarke at his pre-match news conference.

Hardly a surprising answer from a head coach who carries himself in exactly the same way on the eve of a World Cup qualification showdown as he would for a pointless friendly.

Unflappable, emotionless, or as us journalists would put it, boring.

But that’s to his credit, he never allows the hysteria around the national team, good or bad, to affect him or his team.

So there’s no way he would ever place his trust in the idea of fate or some sort of favour from the gods to make up for decades of heartbreak.

But I am not Steve Clarke, so let me dream if you may.

Scotland are due one, if that’s even a thing, so let the nation believe in its date with destiny for just 90 minutes, and hopefully, say goodbye to glorious failure.