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The Slovenian bagpipe incident
October has not been particularly kind to the Scottish national soccer team. They were turfed out of the World Cub 2018 competition after failing to win a crucial game against Slovenia. If that wasn’t bad enough, archrival England were in the same qualifying group, won the group outright and therefore advanced.
But there is more to the tragedy. According to the BBC, the 4,000 Scottish fans who followed the team to Slovenia were not going to be allowed to bring bagpipes to the game. However, negotiations between the Scottish and Slovenian football associations resulted in a change of heart. (You can imagine how delicate those negotiations must havc been: Slovenia probably insisted on one bottle of single malt per set of bagpipes as compensation for having to listen to them).
So while the Scots brought their bagpipes along, the pipes failed to help the team in its hour (and a half) of need. This leaves as sour a taste in the mouth as fresh haggis. Will the storied power of the bagpipes to terrify enemies in battle and give hopelessly outnumbered Scottish warriors a fighting chance now have to be recast as fiction? And will other legendary characterics of the Scots come up for review? Perhaps people will lose interest in finding out what, if anything, Scotsmen wear under their kilts. Will the Scots now become objects of derision? Perhaps credit companies will start making commercials that asks cartoonish Scots “What’s in your sporran?”. Did we reach “peak Scottish” a few years ago with the publication of the ambitiously titled book How the Scots invented Canada, with the Slovenian bagpipe incident marking the first measurable stage of the decline.
Mind you, the bagpipes have for a long time been a rich source of amusement among musicians. Jokes such as:
“What’s the difference between bagpipes and onions? No one cries when you chop up the bagpipes.”
“What’s the definition of a gentleman? Someone who knows how to play the bagpipes, but doesn’t.”
“How can you tell if bagpipes are out of tune? Someone is blowing into them.”
But if—and it is a big “if”—bagpipes have any redeeming value, it is as noisemakers. Not in Vancouver, mind you, which enacted a by-law in 2012 expressly banning the street use of bagpipies and percussion instruments. One bagpiper came to the defence of his chosen instrument by noting that his next door neighbour’s lawnmower operated at a higher decibel level than his bagpipes. Well, at least he made an accurate comparison in tonal quality.
Noisemakers are an integral part of the spectacle of the World Cup. The most notorious example was at the South African venues in 2010. The noisemaker of choice was the vuvuzela, a long horn-like implement that made a terrible toot—to the point of distraction of those unused to it. (You can pick one up on Amazon for four dollars; a starter bagpipe kit will set you back five hundred bucks. You choose which is the more cost-effective way to achieve the result.) Organizers of the 2018 competition, to be held in Russia, have already selected their noisemaking weapons of choice— wooden spoons. To be known as the “spoons of victory,” they consist of two back-to-back wooden spoons joined together with a flexible grip and decorated with Russian heritage patterns. Perhaps Scotland should start refurbishing the reputation of its bagpipes by declaring independence from the UK, bidding successfully to host a future World Cup, and introducing opposing teams to the sound of 60,000 fans playing the pipes in support of their national team. If the job is done well, opposing teams will be scared to set foot on the pitch.
But back to the misfortunes of the Scottish soccer team. The team manager made some unfortunate comments about the reason for his team’s exit. “Genetically, we are behind,” said Gordon Strachan; his men could not defeat a Slovenian team that had more “height and strength.”
Some skeptics may see this as confirmation of their view of the Scottish (poor genetics, short and weak). But the BBC put statistics to work to test the excuse. It analyzed the top 50 teams in the world. While Scotland were the second shortest team, the shortest were Spain (who won the World and European cups); and third shortest were Portugal (the reigning European champions). So height isn’t an excuse. As for weight, aren’t Scots notorious for their feats of strength in tossing the caber and putting the shot? Besides, it’s quite un-Scottish to look for excuses for yourself. Mr. Strachan subsequently chose to resign his position, presumably just before the bootprint left a mark on the backside of his kilt.
Yes, so far, it’s been a bad month to be a Scot. But things are looking up. A big liquidation sale at Sears starts this week. Nothing will be at the regular price—a price which, as a matter of national pride, a Scot never pays.
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