Scots sing with one voice to clinch victory after England fail to deliver

EMOTION has always played a major part in sport of all sorts and it has been a privilege down the years to have been in some arenas where the bond between players and crowd has reached almost unimaginable levels.

The lusty playing and bellowing of the "Marseillaise" in Paris always set the hairs in the nape of the neck on end; the wondrous "Land of My Fathers" in the various incarnations of the Arms Park (especially in the dark days of the Miners' Strike) seemed to give extra strength and pace to the Welsh team – as if they needed it with men like Gareth Edwards, Phil Bennett, JPR Williams, Delme Thomas, Derek Quinnell and Graham Price in their ranks.

"Molly Malone" somehow had a softer, less menacing feel as it wafted round Lansdowne Road but still managed to inspire the uniquely Irish mix of muscle and mental agility to more heroics as the ancient enemy were put to flight once more, while further afield – at Loftus Versfeld in Pretoria – the voices of a suddenly united nation singing "N'kosi Sikeleli, Africa" just three weeks after Nelson Mandela had been elected president remains an unforgettable moment.

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But all the above count for little when compared to the reception accorded to the Scottish team as they took the field for their grand slam, Triple Crown and Calcutta Cup match against Will Carling's England on March 17, 1990. If intimidation was the aim then it was achieved, at least in the packed stands of the old Murrayfield. It was a match apart, of a different time.

Quite why that one game of rugby became such an epic encounter – at least in Scottish folklore and in the minds of all those who were fortunate to be present – remains a subject for debate.

There are those of a political bent who suggest that Margaret Thatcher's divisive poll tax, allied to the growing nationalist fervour north of the border, provided the catalyst for Scottish indignation. It was "Thatcher's England" against proud, downtrodden little Scotland who had been robbed of "their oil" money.

Others will tell you that the perceived arrogance of the England team, particularly captain Carling and a few key players, including hooker Brian Moore and centre Jeremy Guscott, had proved too much to bear as the championship favourites romped their way through the preceding matches, especially their 34-6 thrashing of Wales at Twickenham.

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Those who mixed politics and sport declared Carling the epitome of an officer, if not quite a gentleman, in Mrs Thatcher's army, which, indeed, he was for a short while.

Then there were allegations that merchandise bearing the

legend "England, Grand Slam champions 1990" was on sale in London and Edinburgh in the days before the game and that the wives and

girlfriends of the England team had paraded round the pitch at Murrayfield taking pictures of their boys as they trained, the inference being that they only had to turn up to win.

Whatever the reasons, there was a much more hostile than usual feel about the walk from Haymarket Station to Murrayfield that Saturday morning, a rather less welcoming than usual greeting and lunch in one clubhouse where anyone from Bradford was usually treated as a guest of honour. Even long-standing Scottish colleagues appeared distant.

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Kick-off approached and the buzz in the ground was amazing, as though a nation had arrived to see some kind of redemption. Instead, they saw Scotland's captain, David Sole, lead his team on to the field at a funereal march, in stark contrast to the flighty gallop of champions-in-waiting England in their lily-white strip.

The crowd hushed for a moment, as if unwilling to believe the audacity of their team, then roared their approval. There was something different in the air. The playing of "God Save The Queen" passed without incident but no-one, certainly not a soul within yards of the free seats in the eaves of the stand occupied by the Fourth Estate, was ready for what happened next.

From the first strains of "Flower of Scotland" the noise was amazing, the fervour unbelievable. Every Scot in the ground, man, woman and child, laird and lady of whatever ilk, all with their sprig of white heather, sung as though their lives depended on their words being heard in Glasgow, even in London.

Moore would later write that Sole's theatrical entry made no difference to England. "It had no effect whatsoever on anything. For all we cared, the Scots could have come on in taxis."

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Maybe, but the effect of the massed singing certainly inspired those it was aimed at, Scotland taking an early lead with two penalties then, after conceding a try to Guscott, holding on in the face of unrelenting England pressure in the shadow of their own posts.

Time after time England tried to push the Scots over the line but every time they were foiled by Sole, with the simple ruse of dropping the scrum. England might have kicked at goal, they ought perhaps to have been awarded a penalty try, they might even have tried to run the ball but no; they were the England pack, they would have their try.

They failed and when the siege was lifted the Scottish crowd roared their approval. They roared again four minutes into the second half when Tony Stanger followed up a precise kick from Gavin Hastings – beating Rory Underwood for pace on the way – and touched down for a try which sent Scotland into collective delirium. England could manage only a penalty in response and Scottish joy was unconfined.

There were jubilant scenes as Sole and his players raced for the safety of the dressing room at the final whistle; for Carling's England there was the simple, aching pain of defeat in a match they knew they should have won. The build-up, the slow march, the song, the try, will all be discussed at length today, tonight, into tomorrow and every time Scotland and England meet on the rugby field.

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But let the last word belong to Sole, who, obviously, like the great Duke of Wellington, does not regard place of birth as key to nationality. In a letter to "The Scotsman" a few days ago Sole, born in Aylesbury, Buckinghamshire, expressed the view: "It was not a question of settling scores, of getting 'one over' on the English or of putting political wrongs to right. It was simply a game of rugby – the only difference was that there was a grand slam at stake.

"It is a shame that the victory has been interpreted by some as something more than that. If that is the belief they hold then that is their right, but to do so diminishes what the game meant to many others.

"To continue to hold such xenophobic beliefs is not healthy for Scotland as a nation. We should continue to be fierce rivals of England but that rivalry should be no different to any other nation that we compete against. Let us be proud of our achievements – I am extremely proud of the grand slam of 1990 – but let us view them for what they are: great moments in sport, no more, no less."

Day to remember: How the old rivals took to the field

Scotland

G Hastings (London Scottish); A Stanger (Hawick), S Hastings (Watsonians), S Lineen (Boroughmuir), I Tukalo (Selkirk); C Chalmers (Melrose)l, G Armstrong (Jed Forest); D Sole (Edinburgh Academicals, captain), K Milne (Heriots FP), P Burnell (London Scottish), C Gray (Nottingham), D Cronin (Bath), J Jeffrey (Kelso), F Calder (Stewarts Melville FP), D White (London Scottish). Replacements: A Redpath (Melrose), D Wylie (Stewarts Melville FP), G Oliver (Hawick), D Turnbull (Hawick), A Brewster (Stewarts Melville), J Allan (Edinburgh Academicals).

Scorers: Tries - Stanger; Pens: Chalmers (3).

England

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S Hodgkinson (Nottingham); S Halliday (Bath), W Carling (Harlequins, captain), J Guscott (Bath), R Underwood (Leicester)); R Andrew (Wasps), R Hill (Bath); P Rendall (Wasps), B Moore (Nottingham), J Probyn (Wasps), P Ackford (Harlequins), W Dooley (Preston Grasshoppers), M Skinner (Harlequins), P Winterbottom (Harlequins), M Teague (Gloucester). Replacements: J Webb (Bath), M Bailey (Wasps), S Bates (Wasps), M Linnett (Moseley), J Olver (Harlequins), D Egerton (Bath).

Scorers: Tries - Guscott; Pens: Hodgkinson.