Reality bites - and dives a bit too(Ukraine … 2 SCOTLAND … 0)

It refuses to become cold outside. October 11th and only anorexics and pensioners require any kind of coat when walking from hoose tae shop. Those little black midgey flies are still evading flailing swipes in the living rooms of Caledonia but a single swipe of the front wipers is all it takes to to clear the windscreen in the morning.

France. The glamour of France bowing to our will augments this Indian summer feel. But when we think of the Ukraine ..

We think of a harsh life and harsher weather - and suddenly winter seeps intae oor bones.

Was at a wee brthday party last night. I was driving so no bevvy, but the e-numbers from much tea and cake kept me buzzing til the wee small hours. Was tired all day at work but it was worth it. Then, before I could quite park my car in my street at tea-time this evening, my neighbour reversed into me. I could see her slowly backing towards me. I had nowhere to go - I beeped the horn, and again. No avail. Crunch.

It’s a tight street, parking’s tricky and she was straight out her car, apologizing, offering to pay for any damage - lovely neighbour. Felt terrible for her and laughed it off. Barely a crack of the paintwork but there’s always the chance the winter frost will bite tomorrow morn, get under that crack and the rust sets in. I’ll try not to think about it.

Scotland’s National XI - the reason my neighbour, like me, was rushing home to the telly and parking willy nilly - we beeped our horn, we tried to warn, but some bumps are just unavoidable. After a party like Saturday’s, and the hangover demanded by such effort of mind and body - a trip to an ex-Soviet state and their desperate, talented, physically fit team, was always going to be a struggle.

The Ukraine’s a nation ten times the population of ours and one which arguably needs its football successes even more than neddy, obese, fag-ash Scotland. As Craig Gordon’s gold strip blended into the swathe of similarly-coloured empty seats amidst a 50,000ish crowd in a famous 80,000ish stadium, the brilliant Scotland of the opening three matches of this qualifying campaign faded back into an anonymous hinterland.

To have won tonight would have been miraculous. To have drawn would make us think seriously about qualifying for Austria and Switzerland 2008. To lose was crap but understandable and all that’s happened is hystercal joy has been slightly chastened by the near gravitational pull of defeat in the second of our two gargantuan fixtures in four days.

Ian Mccall and Paul Mitchell were back in the BBC gantry. I was at Hampden on Saturday so only had to listen to their highlights at the weekend. Tonight I was treated to the full, live 94-minute horror. To be lame is their most achievable ambition. But - and this is when I should have realised it was all about to go worng - early in the second half I found myself agreeing with them.

On Saturday, Henry hit the post and missed a header from six yards when everyone in the stadium thought he was offside. Andriy Shevchenko is one of Thierry’s true peers in the game and tonight he did the same. McFadden had also been booked early doors for a malicious tackle, as per the France game, and we went in 0-0 at half-time with our backs somewhat against the wall for the most part. All saturday’s discernable patterns were presenting themselves again in Kiev this evening. When you start looking to supertsition rather than sound evidence of on-field prowess for your inspiration, you should know what’s gonnae happen.

Yes, the Swedish ref seemed to have been threatened with a dose of whatever the former local regime slipped the leader of the orange Revolution. McFadden’s booking means he’ll miss the Georgia game at Hampden in March - but it was deserved - Fletcher’s I don’t know so much and Steven Pressley’s red card was farcical. Shevchenko dived into him and another Scotsman was covering. The following penalty was as inevitable as it was soft. When someone touches my face I put my hand to my face - I don’t hit the air as if porpelled by a landmine underfoot.

Nevertheless, we cannae blame it on the ref. We can blame it on KENNY MILLER!! :-)

Nah - only joking. Miller is excellent for Scotland and while he’s a man who’ll score goals, everyone, even people who cheered from teh Govan stand as he knocked five in during a single SPL match, now knows he’s not a goal-scorer. If Kenny Miller has time to think about it, he will miss - he did it against Italy in the San Siro and he did it again tonight. A perfect ball from Robbie Nielsen and Miller had too much time to fret about where he should place his diving header. He fluffed it.

The marking for Ukraine’s first goal was a bit slack and the attempts at clearing the initial cross were negligable but the Ukraine were always gonnae get fitter-looking as we felt the effects of Saturday’s heroics and the intervening travel. We did well to hold out til the 90th minute before finally being put out the game altogether. It was a matserclass in sharpness AND cheating by Shevchenko and we can only hope that the Scotland team tell him what Henry told us at the weekend - “wait til we get ye at our place”

… by that time we should know just how much genuine threat that statement carries. This Group B street is jam-packed. There’s not a space to be had up our end - and the bumps could get even nastier.