Barry Ferguson comes out before a crucial Scotland game and whinges about the way the SFA made him persona non grata. A few days earlier, Darren Fletcher had said representing Scotland at the World Cup would surpass anything he's achieved with Manchester United. Fletcher's reverence for the World Cup reveals an intelligent mind and an understanding of football history. Ferguson, in stark contrast, always found it far easier to get motivated about Scottish football's domestic baubles; playing for Scotland often looked a chore for him.
International football is frequently run down these days, but it's at the World Cup that indelible reputations are made. Salvatore 'Toto' Schillaci's name is fresh in the memory of anyone who had even a passing interest in Italia '90, like my wife or my mum, to whom more talented Italian strikers of the 1990s such as Enrico Chiesa, Pierluigi Casiraghi and Guiseppe Signori are unkowns. It's at the World Cup that the greatest - Maradona, Pele, Cruyff - rubberstamp their talent before the watching world. But overachieving journeymen can leave legacies, too. Who'd have thought a diminutive, balding Scot would score one of the best World Cup goals of all time? How many people would remember Archie Gemmill if he hadn't?
Decades from now, when Ferguson is forgotten, the exploits of Schillaci and Gemmill will still be revered. Missed your chance, Barry.