Scots’ night of rich redemption

It had to be Kirk Broadfoot. The Rangers defender has spent his first international week fending off an inferiority complex. Last night, with George Burley indulging his masochistic streak, he of "limited ability" provided the opener, reviving Scotland's World Cup qualification bid and saving the manager from another savaging.

By flinging himself bravely through a wall of Icelandic muscle and might, Broadfoot served to vindicate Burley's back-handed compliment. It is precisely this type of courage that has enabled Broadfoot to overcome the technical deficiencies he is aware of more than anyone. He may, indeed, possess limited ability but, frankly, he has balls of brass. Scotland could do with another 10 of his type. Come to think of it, last night they did.

Fittingly, James McFadden scored the decisive second goal almost a year to the day since his iconic swipe in the Parc des Princes. This was no classic. His penalty was saved by Kjartan Sturluson but he atoned by poking the rebound through Barry Robson's leg on the goalline.

This was a night of rich redemption for Burley. He refused to buckle under intolerable pressure, stuck to his principles of open, enterprising football and enjoyed one of the most satisfying wins of his 18-year stretch in the dug-out. Victory was not achieved without the customary panic. Iceland were literally handed a comeback by Stephen McManus, who was sent off for handball in the box. Eidur Gudjohnsen scored the penalty and Scotland held on grimly for 15 torturous minutes.
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Gary Caldwell preserved the points amid the peril with a phenomenal headed clearance in the dying moments. He might as well have an S' emblazoned on the chest of his shirt after another heroic night. Until McManus's unfathomable madness, there was a vibrancy and energy to Scotland's play that helped erase the memory of a miserable 45 minutes in Macedonia.

Burley's unwavering positivity is admirable, if unbearable on the blood pressure, but even he was not for taking chances with a man down and a priceless win to protect. The solution to the problems of Skopje was to select a team so attack-minded it bordered on irrational given the gloomy undercurrent. Maybe now he will be given his due respect.

Kenny Miller, so often the international talisman away from home, was consigned to the bench yet this was no act of pragmatism. Instead, incredibly, Burley went buckshee. Paul Hartley's role as protective midfielder was made redundant as Scotland set out to swarm their unsuspecting hosts. Kris Commons and Shaun Maloney were thrown in to support McFadden and added a new dimension of attractiveness to Scotland's play. Commons, in particular, was a game little scrapper and claimed his first international casualty when Bjarni Eiriksson was hauled off at half-time.

A midfield trio of Scott Brown, Darren Fletcher and Robson could hardly be described as conservative. Brown performed responsibly, in contrast to his weekend wastefulness, while Robson endeared himself further with another robust and productive night.

It all made for a fascinating evening of entertainment; a high-stakes strategy that would either redeem Burley or condemn him. Deservedly, it was the former scenario that unfolded in the Laugardalsvollur stadium, hardly one of football's cauldrons.

David Taylor, the former chief executive of the Scottish FA now in charge of more glamorous duties at UEFA, turned up to show his support to the cause. Inspiration arrived in a wondrous Icelandic form. Having been regularly subjected to Ronnie Browne's embarrassing uncle-at-a- wedding performance of Flower of Scotland at Hampden, a pretty, pixie-like local warmed a nation's cockles with a more rousing a capella.

The visitors started enthusiastically, buoyed by a boisterous Tartan Army whose repertoire included the memorable "Sing When You're Whaling". The extent of Scotland's risk-taking was confirmed every time the Icelanders stomped up for a corner, like a casting call for the Spartan epic, 300. In such moments, Commons and Maloney looked like it was their first day at the big school.

Scotland were at their most threatening at set-pieces, too, especially from Robson's slicing action. With two teams committed to attack, and keenly aware of their defensive limitations, the game swung frantically from one end to the other. Gudjohnsen ought to have put Iceland ahead but elected for the spectacular finish rather than the simple and certain one. Caldwell's heroic challenge on Heidar Helguson inadvertently teed-up the Barcelona attacker but he hammered the ball over Craig Gordon's bar.

Then it all became a bit surreal. Broadfoot, a storming presence at right-back, would savour a moment of delicious irony. He flung himself at Robson's corner and thumped a ferocious header past Sturlsun.

In an instant, he was afforded cult status by the Tartan Army, who to a man proclaimed "There's only one Kirk Broadfoot" and cheered his every positive touch thereafter, of which there were many.

Burley, once he had calmed down, flashed a wry smile at his coaching staff at the madness of it all. The goal hardly settled the manager's nerves. He fretted obsessively over Scotland's shape, pointing players into their right positions to the square inch. Such pedantry confounds his public image as a forgetful airhead.

McFadden may not have been spectacular but the nature of his job was to discomfort the Icelandic defence. He was denied a tap-in by the leg of Kristjan Sigurdsson and rolled a inviting pass across the six-yard line that went unclaimed. Hermann Hreirdarsson served warning of Iceland's counter-attacking threat but McManus was in position to sweep the ball away from goal.

Scotland's lead was enhanced when McFadden was chopped down by Sigurdsson.

It was a needless foul but a welcome one none the less. Sturlson saved easily but was helpless to halt the stampede.

Gudjohnsen's penalty conversion ensured a fraught finale but Scotland stood firm and Burley, after a traumatic week, departed Reykjavik a vindicated man.

Taken from the Herald