For an entire generation, the current World Cup represents a once‑in‑a‑lifetime event. It feels almost like a pilgrimage.
The classic bassline of Underworld’s “Born Slippy” resonated through Boston’s streets earlier this week, striking a chord with both millennials and Gen Z fans who are watching the tournament unfold for the first time.
The city’s residents stood captivated, eyes misty, as they filmed the visitors and shared the moment online.
They now understand John McGinn’s reputation, know that a Scotland loss means no celebration, and have realized even washing‑up liquid is essential on a trip of this magnitude.
Boston’s sporting heritage is dominated by the Red Sox, Celtics, Bruins and Patriots, but football has long been on the periphery. That has begun to change.
Recently, billboards advertising the potential sale of a professional Scottish club appeared across the city.
Local fans now wonder where they can purchase the iconic pink shirt—“salmon” in the vernacular—of their new favourite club.
The city’s affection for Scotland has grown, and the connection runs both ways.
The split will be difficult to accept for both sides; the Saltires may no longer frequent local hotels or display their crest on car windows, and McGinn’s name may no longer keep fans awake at night. Cones will no longer appear beside any statues.
Boston Common will cease to be a central meeting place, and the Tartan Army will no longer pack Fenway Park nights. Baseball will no longer fill that particular void.
There is, however, a promising night in Miami lined up with the Marlins. Understanding your audience is key.
Two nations, each passionate about their football teams, are converging in the “Magic City.” Something magical may yet help Scotland achieve its goals.