The camera cuts to a young boy, mop of curls, maybe eight or nine years old, tears streaming down his face and using his fingers to form a love heart aimed towards the field.
Moments later, a slightly older girl appears, holding her glasses in one hand, revealing eyes that are a watery mess and a heart submerged in disappointment — anguish, even — yet still, somehow, full and proud and defiant.
This is the maelstrom of conflicting emotions that makes football so special and life-enhancing, that will hook these children in and leave them unable to let go. Just like it does — and did — with all of us.
It is everything those supporters of Cape Verde, from babes-in-arms to ageing grandparents, lived in the aftermath of the heroic display from their national team in going down 3-2 to Argentina after extra-time.
And watching them come to terms with the spectacle they’d just witnessed — and the performances of those representing them in those dark blue jerseys — made you envious. Made you ask yourself when the last time you felt that way about a Scotland side competing at the highest level was. Made you question just what has happened to the game here.
On the field, everything was just as raw and visceral. The players cried. Went to the stands to hug their families.
The young Cape Verde supporter was pictured after his side’s mighty effort against Argentina
Cape Verde fans have enjoyed such a rollercoaster ride thanks to their national side
Amid everything else in the heady swirl, ambition was one of the components of those tears. Or ambition thwarted, rather. The desire to keep pushing, all powered by the belief in yourself and your colleagues to carry on letting everyone know you belong on this stage and bring something to it.
Compare and contrast those moments in the Hard Rock Stadium in Miami to the scenes which followed the end of Scotland’s tournament in that very same arena nine days earlier following a 3-0 surrender to Brazil.
Stony faces among the players. Dead eyes. Clapping towards the fan base, but all done with a lack of expression. Guys just desperate to bring the whole sorry business to an end, if anything.
There were few tears evident among the supporters either. No frustration born from feeling the team had given their all or gone for broke. No satisfaction. Just resignation, really. More of those blank stares already evident on the park as the performative mutual applause played out — and a focus quickly shifting to just getting back to the pub for one last night on the batter.
It’s tempting to let this descend into a rant, demanding to know how Cape Verde can go toe-to-toe with the reigning champions in the knockout stages of the World Cup while Scotland are back home handling the credit-card bills.
That’s too easy, though. The African outfit, ranked 64th in the world, have given lots of bigger nations plenty to think about.
There are certainly big conversations to be had here in Scotland about how interesting reviews on revolutionising youth football are now going to be implemented.
That doesn’t mean we can’t look, short-term, at what made Cape Verde’s World Cup so energising and ask what can be taken from this tale of punching above your weight when the eyes of the world are upon you.
One place to start is in considering what head coach Bubista had to say in the immediate aftermath.
‘More than just playing, this was about showing the world our identity,’ he stated. ‘Even though they are sad, the players were hugging each other, they were crying. This helps us grow, and also shows that the team has a soul.’
Is it possible to feel that way about Scotland in any of the major tournaments they reached under former manager Steve Clarke? Euro 2020 was the best of three, undermined by a lack of composure at vital moments.
Euro 2024 was a disgrace — in which everyone looked scared of their own shadows — that should have led to Clarke’s removal. The World Cup just gone? Deeply depressing too.
Lionel Messi scored the opener for Argentina against Cape Verde but needed extra-time
Messi shakes hands with 40-year-old Cape Verde goalkeeper Vozinha
Clarke’s negativity was the big issue in Euro 2024 and part of the problem this time around as well. Fielding two left-backs against Morocco backfired. What made that defeat more infuriating was the fact that, when we finally attempted to assert ourselves, the North Africans lost impetus.
The players also need to take responsibility, though. Clarke played a 4-4-2 against Haiti, but big performers didn’t turn up.
Morocco was a tactical mess, but the line-up against Brazil met with approval. Stupid mistakes, more no-shows from influential figures and a real lack of cohesion and self-belief extinguished all hope.
Several players detailed their determination to leave America with ‘no regrets’, but they must be full of them. Again. They failed miserably and bowed out with a whimper.
Maybe that was to expected when so much of the noise from the squad beforehand centred on how fans should just be grateful for getting back to major finals. Even afterwards, Clarke talked about how punters should be saying thank you to the players for getting to America in the first place.
A new manager means a new start, but these damp squibs who stink out big tournaments when they get there really should study Cape Verde and take notes.
There was no ‘just happy to be here’ vibe about them. They have more pace than Scotland and, embarrassingly, look more comfortable on the ball, but their players operate at much lower levels. The difference is that, as a team, they play with their hearts on their sleeves.
A terrible element of Scotland’s World Cup was that anyone asking for a more aggressive approach against Brazil was accused of demanding we go ‘gung-ho’. Even Clarke was at it. It became silly and dispiriting.
Cape Verde were built on solid coaching and discipline. They were really organised, defended for their lives. Aggression was a big part of their make-up. They pressed fiercely, worked relentlessly — as you must when facing better opposition. Yet, there was always a plan to get the ball up the park when openings came.
Scotland delivered little of quality with the ball in their three games, but they were rotten without it too.
Maybe Clarke’s risk-averse approach and downplaying of expectation made his players feel restricted, but one thing his successor must do is encourage good players to feel free to express themselves within a solid, settled framework.
Steve Clarke resigned as Scotland boss after crashing out at the group stages
It looks almost impossible to miss Euro 2028, so there is space to experiment. Younger players need to be looked at. Lennon Miller should make progress in Serie A, Kieron Bowie will get a big move from Verona, Luke Graham has gone from Dundee to Stoke, Robbie Ure is rattling in goals for IK Sirius in the Sweden.
A Danish contact even asks why 24-year-old centre-back Luis Binks of Brondby hasn’t been considered. These boys might not prove good enough, but the national squad needs new blood. It also needs a change of attitude.
Us old curmudgeons once cried as kids at World Cups as well, when beating eventual finalists the Netherlands wasn’t enough, when Graeme Souness’ equaliser against the Soviet Union left you hiding the coalcellar afraid to come out, when Stevie Nicol missed that open goal against Uruguay, when Brazil keeper Claudio Taffarel’s late save denied Mo Johnston his place in history.
Sure, those teams probably underperformed to a degree as well, but they gave us the kind of iconic moments so sadly lacking in recent major competitions.
We’re not asking to run Argentina all the way to the wire. We just want a side that makes us believe in them because they look like they believe in themselves. A team with an identity that reflects our spirit. A team we can be tearful with, dream big with, celebrate with and identify with.
A team that makes us feel the way Cape Verde feels, when all is said and done. A team that goes out on its shield.
