Book of the week: Scots' adventure that could not have been worse

Don't Cry for me Argentina By Mike Wilson (Mainstream, paperback, pounds 9.99)

A BOOK about the 1970 Brazilians, such as Gary Jenkins' The Beautiful Team, one can understand, but Scotland at Argentina '78? The defeat by Peru, the draw with Iran, the hype of Ally McLeod and the Willie Johnston drugs scandal? Who would want to remember that?

Joe Jordan, though briefly quoted, has the same view but, apart from the reticent Kenny Dalglish, every other member of the ill-fated Scottish party contributed to this oral history narrative of 19 days in Argentina. The result is unexpectedly fascinating. The players' views, together with recollections by McLeod, Ernie Walker of the Scottish Football Association, and some of the journalists present, recall a bizarre episode in Scottish football history which still affects the national psyche today.

Some of the memories, even at this distance, are shocking. By the time Scotland come to play the Netherlands, needing a big win to qualify for the next stage, many of the squad are so disenchanted they want the team to lose. Asa Hartford, having noted that the hotel swimming pool, plumbing, telephone system and training facilities were all deficient, added: "So, by the time we were 3-1 up against Holland, you can understand why a few players in the stand went 'Oh no', and got out of their seats to have a drink."

This is confirmed by Don Masson who recalled: "It's an awful thing to say, but when Archie Gemmill scored that goal [the brilliant solo effort to go 3-1 up], there was no response from the Scottish players in the stand. Because it meant possibly staying out another week. That's how bad it was. That's unbelievable, isn't it? But it's true."

Despite the ineptness of the team, most of the supporters' memories are fond; they enjoyed the trip so much the football is forgiven. McLeod is sanguine, Walker admits the SFA were "naive" and Johnston pleads innocence. His defence is that he was only taking a pep pill common in the English game at the time but his argument is weakened by his omitting to tell the team doctor. No one comes out well from Johnston's subsequent treatment except, perhaps, Masson, his room-mate, who attempts to stand up for him. The SFA, anxious to pre-empt Fifa punishment, whisk Johnston away to Buenos Aires - eight hours by road. There he has one very good experience, and one very bad.

The first is when, alone in his hotel room, he is visited by a British Embassy official carrying beer - "a Godsend" recalled Johnston. Then, at the airport, he is left on the tarmac in a bus empty except for a teenage soldier who keep jabbing a gun into his ribs - this, remember, is at a time when the Argentinian government "disappear" people by the thousand. Johnston flies via Paris evading the British press on the connection to Heathrow as they are in first class while he is in steerage. Ron Atkinson, his then manager at West Brom, meets him, and persuades him to do a BBC TV interview before meeting up with his wife.

The tale is symptomatic of the confusion that dogged the Scottish effort. The book could be subtitled "How not to run a World Cup campaign".