Sights and scenes from the World Cup at Gillette Stadium where Scotland and Morocco played against each other on Friday, June 19, 2026 in Foxborough. (Sebastian Restrepo/MassLive)
FOXBOROUGH — And just like that, the bagpipes fell silent.
Like a magical summer vacation romance, we knew it was coming to an end, but we tried to pretend the end wasn’t inevitable.
But it’s here. The Scots are gone.
If this were a movie, at some point on Saturday, we’d rush through crazy Boston traffic to Logan Airport and then run (in slow motion of course) hoping to catch them before they passed through security lines and beg them to stay:
“Don’t go! Life (and the World Cup) won’t be the same without you!“
1/73
Scotland battled Morocco during a World Cup match on Friday June 19, 2026 at Gillette Stadium in Foxborough.
But this isn’t a movie.
Some members of the Tartan Army will depart for Florida for their game next week with Brazil in Miami. Others will head home. They’ll go back to their jobs and wearing pants. We’ll go back to our lives, knowing existence will be a little bit duller, a little bit quieter and a little bit soberer.
Our statues will go unconed. Beers from Boston to Providence will wait much longer to be drunk. The Tartan Army came in with a reputation for being one of the best fanbases on the planet and they exceeded it.
In a summer of short playoff runs by the Bruins and Celtics and terrible baseball by the Red Sox, the World Cup has been a welcome alternative and Scotland was the perfect team to set the mood.
Scottish fans passing a statue of the revolutionary John Glover, humorously decorated with a traffic cone, in a park in Boston, Mass., ahead of the World Cup Group C soccer match between Scotland and Morocco, Friday, June 19, 2026. (AP Photo/Martin Meissner)AP Photo/Martin Meissner
Nobody will be more disappointed to see the Tartan Army leave than the Boston police, who’ve watched with appreciative bemusement as a crowd of intoxicated sports fans roamed through the city creating no trouble whatsoever.
We’ll try to keep in touch. Fans in bars across Massachusetts will wear their newly-purchased blue and plaid T-shirts to watch Scotland play Brazil and they’ll cheer for them as hard as for the Americans. We’ll hear the chants and the songs behind the announcers on the telecast and instinctively sing along.
We’ll cross our fingers that they advance to the knockout rounds to keep this going a little longer even from a distance. We’ll knock on wood that maybe they’ll end up back here in the round of 32.
We’ll cling to the memory drinking scotch and whatever’s left of the Tennents lager smart bar owners had shipped in this month until it runs out and bartenders replace it with some juicy, hazy double IPA. We might ignore the historical inaccuracies and commit three hours to a “Braveheart” rewatch, just to hear the accent.
We’ll try to embrace the England fans when they’re here next week. They’ll have fun accents and drink a lot too, but before long, we’ll realize they’re a lot surlier and don’t travel with fun instruments.
We’ll flirt with the Norwegians. They’re fun. And they do that cool rowing thing. But they’re not quite as outgoing or jovial as the Scots, and, worse, we know they’ll be gone again soon too and we won’t be ready to get hurt again.
For years down the road, we’ll hear a Scottish brogue in a crowd or on TV and we’ll smile at the memories it triggers.
Maybe we’ll even visit Glasgow or Edinburgh someday or buy tickets when Scotland is inevitably invited back for a friendly.
But it’ll never quite be like it was back in 2026 when Scotland came here for for their first World Cup in 28 years and invited us to take part in their joy.
In 2030, we’ll root for them to qualify for the World Cup because we’ll remember how happy it made them and how happy they made us.
But we’ll eventually be jealous, knowing their fans are starting a beautiful friendship with Casablanca or Lisbon or Madrid or the rest of the host cities in Spain, Portugal or Morocco, while we remember how special it was for a little while.
No Scotland, no party indeed.
