Apart from a few Australian eccentricities, it was a ruthless riposte by the visitors to reports of their decline. Here was a humiliating reality check for those who had observed Scotland’s recent progress, set it alongside their opponents’ slide down the world rankings, and wondered if there was enough between the teams to prevent an upset.
It is 24 years since the men in dark blue last beat Australia. Given that this was their best chance yet, it could be another quarter of a century before it happens again. They have taken steps under Frank Hadden all right, but if they are to have any hope of making it beyond the quarter-finals of next year’s World Cup, they will have to stand up for themselves rather better than they did yesterday, when too many tackles were missed, too much possession ceded, and too many bodies trampled by the unyielding juggernaut in gold and green.
“We came a cropper today,” admitted Hadden, who said that the growing number of injuries to which his squad has been subjected in these autumn internationals was finally catching up with them. His team, who had won their previous five internationals at Murrayfield this year, were on the brink of their longest winning streak at home in 16 years, but by the time Chris Latham barged over in the closing minutes, the fans were deserting this fortress in their droves.
Although an early 10-point lead skewed the scoreline for longer than Scotland deserved, Australia were as rampant on a crisp Edinburgh afternoon as they had been hopeless in the howling gales of Lansdowne Road a week earlier. If, as former players have been anxious to suggest, this is a bunch of overpaid prima-donnas who behave like rock stars but don’t play like them, heaven help Scotland when they come up against a team with their heads screwed on. If Stirling Mortlock was out revelling until the early hours of this morning, as he was in Rome the other week, at least this time it will have been with good reason.
“We honestly believed we could win this game, so to lose by such a margin was very disappointing,” said Hugo Southwell, who came on to replace Simon Webster just after the winger had scored the game’s opening try. It would be awful were the optimism so carefully nurtured by Hadden in 14 months as coach to be buried by this setback. It was a worrying performance, with plenty of faults, but if morale has been damaged, that will perhaps be the biggest loss.
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The best thing about this Scotland team is its belief. The respect they have for themselves is thanks in part to a sequence of positive results, and in part to the faith their coach has had in them. Hadden’s strategy, in contrast to his predecessor, encourages independence on the pitch, allows them to make the decisions, and in so doing lets them express themselves to the fullest.
They are not afraid to be confident. In a welcome break from the tradition of false modesty, in which fans are routinely insulted by all the old cliches, Scotland’s players were secure enough to predict that they would score 60 points in a demolition of Romania earlier this month. That they had to settle for a less emphatic triumph mattered not to those who respected the ambition.
This time, they dared to suggest that, while a win was not probable, it was certainly possible, a view that combined with their unbeaten home run to attract an attendance of unusual proportions. While crowds of 12,000 and 19,000 rattled around Murrayfield for the previous two matches, there was a Six Nations feel to yesterday as they spilled out from the pubs and cafes of the capital, doubtless accompanied in equal number by the city’s antipodean bar staff. “Some say the autumn Tests are a waste of time, but for one thing, we have managed to attract over 64,000 people to Murrayfield which suggests that the team have been playing well enough to justify that,” said Hadden.
In such number was the throng funnelling its way through Haymarket and out to the stadium that kick-off was delayed by five minutes. That, at least, was the most plausible explanation for a measure that might also have been organised with Nathan Hines in mind. The Perpignan lock has been out and in the side so often these last few days that he must have fancied his chances of a late call-up, even as he sidled down the tunnel in his suit to chat with fellow absentees Jason White and Allister Hogg.
That, though, was a graphic demonstration of Scotland’s handicap, which was soon to be confirmed on the pitch. Despite an early lead that turned out to be more of a cushion that a platform, they found themselves hanging on for most of the first half. By necessity rather than design, the expansive approach they have favoured lately made way for desperate defending and hopeful up-and-unders.
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And to think Scotland had begun so well. Like the gun that signalled an end to the anthems, they gave it both barrels in the opening seconds, somehow surging in front with an audacious burst by Webster. Not only did he slide over, he wrongfooted three Australians in the process. As they wiped the stains from their shorts, Chris Paterson’s conversion was creeping over.
Webster departed with an injury a few seconds later, and it was all downhill from there. The first half disappeared in a flash more bewildering than the fireworks beforehand, and while Australia’s dodgy start had made it appealing enough for the neutral, there was always a suspicion Scotland were deluding themselves. When Mark Gerrard scored twice in the same corner early in the second half, and Stephen Moore later twisted the knife, the Mexican waves were already underway. You know the cause is lost when the crowd start making their own entertainment.