8,392

 8,392 days.

By the time Scotland take the pitch at Hampden Park on June 14, 2021, it will have been 8,392 days since we last saw Scotland at a men's major international tournament.

8,392 days since Craig Burley was sent off and Salaheddine Bassir scored a double to crush any hopes of Scotland advancing any further in the World Cup of France 98. A 3-0 loss to Morocco in Saint-Etienne. I don't think a single Scotland fan in that stadium or watching at home thought we'd be waiting eight thousand, three hundred and ninety two days to see our men's national football team at a tournament again.

Yet, here we are. All those years later, here we are. The likes of Craig Burley, John Collins and Jim Leighton have long since been replaced, time and time again. A generation of players have tried and failed to get us here. Six managers have tried since Craig Brown - Berti Vogts, Walter Smith, Alex McLeish (twice), George Burley, Craig Levein and Gordon Strachan have tried and failed to get us here. In the place of those legends of France 98, the likes of Andrew Robertson, John McGinn and David Marshall who will pull on the dark blue in our own national stadium against the Czech Republic on June 14th. Steve Clarke will be the first man since Craig Brown to manage Scotland’s men at an international football tournament.

We've had many failed campaigns and false dawns to get us to this point. A victory at Wembley that still failed to get us to Euro 2000. Defeating Netherlands at Hampden and then being absolutely crushed a few days later in Amsterdam. Beating France twice in the Euro 2008 campaign - with the James McFadden wondergoal in Paris - and still not qualifying. Last minute heartbreaking goals to the likes of Italy and Poland to end campaigns. Coming back from 1-0 with two Leigh Griffiths free kicks against England - and then conceding an equaliser to Harry Kane. Yes, he should've put it in the fourth row. Georgia. Georgia, again. Losing 3-0 to Kazakhstan, in this very campaign.

And then one, wonderful, wonderful night in Belgrade. All the pain, all the heartache, all the close calls. 8,392 days of waiting. And waiting. And waiting. All gone in an instant. All gone in a David Marshall penalty save. All so, so worth the wait. 

So now, almost 8,392 days later. We are here. We've visualised about who we would take to numerous World Cups and Euros, and this past week Steve Clarke named his squad for the real thing. We have the Panini sticker album with Scotland players in it, the official tournament game with Scotland in the group stages. The "Who will be on the Plane (well, bus?)?" discussions, and the BBC and ITV intros actually featuring our players, for the first time in the longest time.

We're no longer on the outside looking in.

We're here.

How long will it last, though? 270 minutes of football, or more than that? Could we even Portugal it, or Greece it all the way to the Henri Delaunay trophy? The odds say no, the history says unlikely, but try telling any of the 26 players in the squad that. Scotland should absolutely be aiming to reach the knockout stages of a major international finals for the first time ever, and at the eleventh attempt - eight World Cups and our third European Championship.

Personally, I'll enjoy every single second of it. No matter how long it lasts.

Because it took us 8,392 days to get here.

Stop the clock.

Scotland are back.