In Scotland’s return to the World Cup after 28 years, it faces an adversary also in need of a comeback: Brazil. The five-time champion may have charmed the world over the decades, but now finds itself in a bit of a dry spell, thirsty for a sixth victory.
Caught in the middle is Malcolm McLean, 77, a physical representation of the sporting connection between the nations.
“My standard uniform is my Brazil top and my kilt,” he said.
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McLean’s love for the Beautiful Game is divided between the two nations by blood: His grandfather was responsible for introducing Brazilians to the short, quick-passing game for which they would come to be famous.
McLean was on the phone from São Paulo, where he’s been watching the games with Scotland fans who’ve been packing pubs and chanting “no Scotland, no party” – the unofficial anthem of a fanbase that has spent this World Cup drinking Boston dry and showing Miami how to party.
A mechanic with the textile company J&P Coats, his grandfather Archie McLean was sent to Brazil in 1912 to help open a factory. Originally, he was supposed to stay for six months, but the country had other plans.
“He stayed for nearly 40 years,” Malcolm said. “He loved it here, and he got heavily into playing football.”
A team photo from August 1914 shows him lining up alongside Arthur Friedenreich, one of the first great legends of the Brazilian game.
But his most lasting contribution came through a partnership described in history books.
“Hard though it is today to imagine Brazilians blootering the ball from back to front,” that was exactly what Archie found when he arrived, Scottish broadcaster Billy Kay wrote in his history of the Scottish diaspora, “The Scottish World.”
According to Kay, Archie recalled that when he arrived in Brazil, players were competing to see who could kick the ball the highest and the furthest across the field. He and Hopkins then “mesmerized opponents” with their “high speed, short passing interplay,” as Kay describes, very much in the Scottish tradition, but innovative to Brazilians at the time.
“As we know now, they were quick and devastating learners,” Kay wrote.
Brazilians, famously, ran with it.
In 1949, Brazilian soccer historian Tomás Mazzoni wrote that “McLean was an artist, a worthy exponent of the Scottish school.” The Brazilians recognized it as something new and called it tabelinha, Portuguese for “the chart” or, with unintentional irony, sistema inglês: the English system.
Archie retired back to Paisley, Scotland in 1949, his story largely unknown in his home country. But in 1964, at 72, he made a nostalgic return to Brazil and attended a match at São Paulo’s Pacaembu stadium. On being introduced to the crowd before the game, his grandson said, he received a standing ovation. He died five years later.
His grandson inherited the divided loyalties.
“They’re both close to my heart,” he said. “My dream would be that Scotland can beat Brazil – but Brazil win the World Cup.”
Malcolm was born in Brazil and moved to Scotland at age 10. He has followed Scotland to World Cups since 1974, when he watched them exit at the group stage in Germany without losing a game – still, he says, their best-ever performance.
He had tickets for Spain in 1982 but gave them away when his wife had a difficult pregnancy. He was in Paris in 1998 for the opening game, when Scotland lost to Brazil 2-1.
This time, he extended a family wedding trip in Rio de Janeiro into a longer stay to watch the games with a Scottish expat group his grandfather helped found, the St. Andrew’s Society.
“Scotland fans and Brazil fans always get on really well together at the World Cups I’ve been at,” Malcolm said. “The Brazilians are usually drumming. And the Scots fans are playing bagpipes.”
