I was 19
Bloody hell I was lucky with the time I was born.
The Dons were on the cusp of greatness and Scotland were going to win the World Cup.
Folk were walking, cycling, hopping backwards etc. to Argentina and the papers and TV were full of nothing else.
I watched the Peru game at the RGIT union at Schoolhill.
Talk about a lesson in humility.
Umpteen folk crammed into a room with a big (for the time) screen telly in the corner.
The national anthems brought gales of laughter as the camera went to the Peruvian players.
Old men waiting to be slaughtered.
The TV program left out the missed penalty but despite our early goal and a fair amount of swaggering we got gubbed.
Folk were ragin, thank god I couldn't find anyone Peruvian.
It wasn't their fault of course but it would have been their head I was kicking.
Calm retrospect shows you that major psychological forces were at work.
Mass hysteria, when whipped up can send men to war.
This time, thank god it was to watch a football match.
Lesson learned and learned well, I think you have to see it in action to really understand it.