World Cup Story Feed / 世界杯事情流
World Cup Story Feed / 世界杯事情流
Just hours after Scotland's first World Cup victory in 36 years, 5,000 Tartan Army fans flooded Boston's Fenway Park, turning a Red Sox vs. Rangers baseball game into a cross cultural party. Bagpipes, "Yes Sir, I Can Boogie," custom Red Sox tartan jerseys—they even took the governor to court. But the real suspense lies ahead—Morocco and Brazil are waiting in line.
Sunday night, June 14, 2026. Local fans at Boston's Fenway Park had probably never seen anything like it in their lives.
A group of men in kilts poured out of the subway station. The bagpipes arrived first, then the swinging kilts followed - that same energy that had silenced the entire Munich beer tent during Germany's Euro 2024 had now been transported intact to an MLB stadium. Instead of singing the national anthem between innings, they sang "Yes Sir, I Can Boogie" - a 1977 Spanish disco hit that this group of tough guys had adopted as their unofficial anthem since 2020. Their reasoning? "It sounds fun." In the world of football, "it sounds fun" is already as good as currency gets.
It had been less than 24 hours since they ended Scotland's 36-year winless streak at the World Cup by beating Haiti 1-0 in nearby Foxborough, Massachusetts.
5,000 people. 5,000 Tartan Army members.
BBC Scotland's Scott Mullen used the word "takeover" in his live report from the scene. Takeover - not influx, not gathering, but takeover. Red Sox Commercial Director Travis Pollio orchestrated this themed night called the "Scottish Celebration," specially arranging bagpipe bands and a highland-costumed mascot between innings, even getting Fenway's century-old organist to switch up his repertoire and play a rendition of Loch Lomond.
The hospitality of a century-old American baseball institution was met head-on by this crowd.
But the Red Sox still lost. 4-6 to the Texas Rangers.
Bostonians probably thought: Thanks, friends, next time could you win a game before you leave?
Let's rewind the timeline first.
Scotland at the 2026 World Cup came to the U.S. with an attitude of "either win a game or go home." The opening match in Foxborough was against World Cup newcomers Haiti - on paper, a good chance to win; by football's historical rules, the game never goes by paper.
They won, 1-0.
36 years.
The last time Scotland won a match in a major international tournament was at the 1990 World Cup in Italy. Those players are now grandfathers. The stories of these 36 years could fill a three-episode BBC documentary: being knocked out by various underdogs in European qualifiers, having hopes dashed by last-minute goals in playoffs, multiple tournaments exiting in the group stage with draws, and the "so close yet so far" script being printed over and over. In every "so close" story, there are heroes and villains, but they all lose at the same spot: the second a player misses a penalty, the half-second a goalkeeper dives the wrong way, the moment a VAR official takes one extra look.
Then came that damp Monday night, June 14, 2026. The Scots finally let out that breath.
What do you do after winning?
By standard European football script: drink, sing, fight.
By Scottish fan script: drink, sing, then head to a baseball stadium in the next state to keep drinking and singing.
The Tartan Army - everyone in the global fan community knows them - is a group that treats "touring" as their main business and "watching football" as a side gig. Their track record: from the 1998 World Cup in France to Euro 2024 in Germany, spanning 30 years of every major tournament, no matter how their team performed, they could sing the host city to exhaustion, drink the local police under the table, and win over opposing fans.
The 5,000-strong Tartan Army set off from Gillette Stadium in Foxborough to Fenway Park in Boston, about an hour and a half drive. Word has it they stopped four times - not for rest, but because someone's kilt got caught in a car door and needed rescuing.
By the time they reached Fenway, bagpipes, kilts, custom Red Sox jerseys emblazoned with Scottish football legends' names, and homemade tartan banners flooded this ballpark built in 1912.
They taught American baseball fans to sing the Scottish national anthem.
They adapted the slogan "No Scotland, No Party" to "No Red Sox, No Party."
They started a wave in the seventh inning - a wave so big that local fans wondered if they'd walked into the wrong venue.
Massachusetts Governor Maura Healey reportedly had a very busy day because the noise from this Scottish crowd was so loud it interfered with court proceedings in the state. We couldn't find an official reaction from the governor, but given she's also a hardcore sports fan, she probably just smiled and accepted it.
"Yes Sir, I Can Boogie" is a 1977 disco hit by the Spanish duo Baccara. The original lyrics are a flirtatious confession from a woman to a man - "Yes sir, I can boogie, but I need a certain song." Meaning the lady can dance, but she needs the right tune.
The Scots adopted this song as their own in 2020.
The backstory: during the pandemic-delayed Euro 2020, a group of bored fans started an online petition to make this '70s pop tune the official team anthem. The petition didn't succeed, but in practice, the song became the unofficial anthem.
Baccara's two original singers reportedly said they were "honored."
When 5,000 grown men belted out "Yes sir, I can boogie" at Fenway Park, the scene was a dark comedy in itself.
Don't think this was just rowdy fans having fun. Behind it all was a calculated move by the Red Sox's commercial department.
You may not have heard of Travis Pollio, but you need to know his job - he's the Red Sox commercial director in charge of activating the stadium atmosphere. With the World Cup happening in the neighboring state, 5,000 hyped-up, oddly dressed, glass-shatteringly loud Scottish fans were looking for something to do. What was their only weekend entertainment option?
Give them a baseball stadium. Charge them full ticket prices. Upgrade the service. Import the atmosphere. In return, get two days of global sports media coverage.
Pollio did the math better than any Scottish midfielder.
Details of the Red Sox's operations that day have also emerged: the bagpipe band played outside the stadium on Landsdowne Street before the game - a traditional stronghold for Boston's Irish community, making it a cultural exchange to have bagpipes there; a highland-costumed mascot appeared between innings, with "Flower of Scotland" on the backdrop; even the century-old organist was instructed to play Loch Lomond - a song in Scotland that carries the same weight as "Auld Lang Syne" at New Year's celebrations.
The whole setup: 5,000 Scottish fans were there to spend money, the Red Sox were there to gain exposure, and local fans were there for the spectacle. Three parties got what they wanted.
The only ones probably not happy were the Texas Rangers' pitchers, because the roar from the stands was so loud it completely disrupted their pitching rhythm.
The essence of this "Scottish Celebration" was a clever marketing play: the Red Sox used a century-old ballpark for a weekend of global sports headlines, and the Scottish fans swapped a basic baseball lesson for a bagpipe show between innings. Local fans got a story to tell in the stands for a decade.
Party aside, the real business remains.
Winning Haiti on June 14 was just Scotland's opening match of the World Cup. They still have two group stage games to play: against Morocco and Brazil.
Translation of this group: first, take on an African black motorbike, then collide with a South American tank.
Morocco is a traditional African powerhouse. The team's core remains the same: technically sound, disciplined, with counterattacks sharp as a knife. Fans around the world still remember their Cinderella story at the 2022 World Cup in Qatar.
Then comes Brazil.
Brazil.
In any football context, those two words need no further explanation.
Even if Brazil in 2026 may not have the dominance of their peak years, the footballing nation's squad will always have a talent pool so deep it's impossible to see the bottom.
So Scotland's next task is to carry the momentum from their first win in 36 years and face a brutal math problem: get 4 points from 3 games for a theoretical chance to advance; get 6 points and still depend on other results; lose all three, and they're just tourists in America - who happened to snag a win.
From 1990 to 2026, for 36 years, the keyword for Scottish football was always "so close."
Every "so close" story has its heroes and villains. But on June 14, they finally caught that breath.
The 5,000-strong Tartan Army marched from Foxborough to Fenway Park, singing Boston to exhaustion, dragging the governor into court proceedings, turning the Red Sox's loss into a night of Scottish cultural export.
What was the essence of this spectacle?
It was the rebound after 36 years of pressure, the ultimate expression of football fan aesthetics, the release of hormones from "we finally won a game and can celebrate out in the open."
Baccara's "Yes Sir, I Can Boogie" became their anthem not because the melody is timeless, but because the attitude in the lyrics - "the lady can dance, but she needs the right tune" - perfectly mirrored Scottish football's mentality over the past 36 years: We can win, but we have to wait for the right moment.
On June 14, 2026, the moment arrived.
As for the two tough matches ahead against Morocco and Brazil - that's another story.
What's certain is that, regardless of the outcome, these 5,000 men in skirts have already written the opening chapter of the 2026 World Cup as an unrepeatable event.
Every song they sang at the baseball stadium is a seed planted for the next 36 years.
And right now, in Boston, the governor is probably considering whether to grant these Scots an "Honorary Citizen" title.
After all, what brings a century-old ballpark to life is never just baseball - it's these 5,000 kilts swaying in the wind.