4 June 1977, Wembley. Scotland 2–1 England.
By Hamish McTavish
This is the other Saturday. Not 1967. Do not mix them. Fifteen April was hugs and turf and a jig at Jamaica Street. The fourth of June is the crossbar. John Motson was live on the BBC. Brian Moore and Ramsey were on ITV. Ninety-eight thousand in, and the bigger share of them had come down on the specials in the name they now used: the Tartan Army. Gordon McQueen, who played, called it the biggest away support he had seen in his life. They thought something special was going to happen. They were not wrong.
England were wobbling under Don Revie. Scotland, under Ally MacLeod, were already being talked toward Argentina. The Mirror, in advance, said it was time for Revie's men to deliver. Scotland had not won at Wembley for ten years, not since Baxter had juggled the world champions on their own grass. That was supposed to be the hangover England could lean on. Ten years. Time to deliver. Revie spent the week practising set pieces. He had Joe Corrigan, in training, pretend to be McQueen. McQueen said later that Corrigan did not play the part well enough.
MacLeod had already told the press room, before his first Wembley, that he did not dislike the English; he hated their guts. It bombed with the writers. It did the job with the rooms that had bought the tickets. In the dressing room he gave them history and heritage and the people who had shelled out to be there. Alan Rough, looking back, remembered the chorus of Scotland, Scotland, and a giant smile on his face. England were favourites in the paper. In the ground they were visiting.
The support had been saving for the weekend the old way, Wembley clubs and specials, two years of coins for one Saturday in the sun. Two years earlier, at the same ground, England had put five past them. That was supposed to be the memory England could spend. MacLeod had spent the spring spending something else: Argentina, medals, Ally's Army, a country talked into believing it was already on the plane. Lou Macari has said you never went into an England game with confidence. The record was too poor. There was always a knot. The knot was still there in the tunnel. The ground outside had already chosen.
They kicked off anyway.
Scotland were the more productive side from the start. Kenny Dalglish might have had a penalty under Mick Mills and did not get it. The first hour is a home side being asked questions it had not packed for. Three minutes before the interval McQueen soared at the back post from a free-kick MacLeod had been working all week — Joe Jordan a run to the front post, McQueen to the back — and headed it in. The camera went to the crowd. Slow motion, then the flags. Joe Jordan came off at the break; Lou Macari came on. A band came on with them. Half-time, one-nil, and the ground already sounded like a Saturday that had chosen a side.
Just after the hour Dalglish made it stand up. First effort blocked, second effort in. Two-nil, and the singing changed key. Revie sent on what he had. Trevor Cherry, Dennis Tueart. Archie Gemmill came on for Don Masson. Late, a penalty — Karoly Palotai pointing after McQueen on Trevor Francis — and Mick Channon put it away. Three minutes from the end. One-two. A consolation that let the morning papers print a game. It was not a game. Scotland had been the better side, retained the Home Championship they had won the year before, and when Palotai blew, the Army came onto the grass.
This time they took the goals as well.
The pitch filled the way 1967 had filled, and then it went further. They climbed. The crossbar buckled. The NLS highlights end on the posts breaking as the fans go up them. Turf came up in chunks. Denis Law, later, still could not get over it. Have you ever lifted a crossbar? It is unbelievably heavy. They wanted to take it on the tube. Dalglish would talk about sitting in the net, and Wembley growing in his back garden. Gordon Brown, writing years after, was careful: 1967 was turf; 1977 was turf and the bar. Keep it that way. Motson had to talk about a goal that would not stay standing. The Home Championship, already looking old, took a wound it would not recover from. Revie's distaste for the job got another layer.
Rough had the clean sheet until the late penalty and the look of a man who had been allowed a Saturday. Danny McGrain and Willie Donachie had the full-back work England could not live with. Asa Hartford and Bruce Rioch had the middle. Willie Johnston had the wide grass. Jordan, even in a half, had the run that made McQueen's header possible. Macari came on and kept the thing moving. Gemmill came on and saw it out. England had Emlyn Hughes with the armband and a side that never looked like the one the Mirror had asked to deliver. Channon's penalty was a last errand.
McQueen had done the thing Revie had spent the week fearing. Dalglish had finished it at the second ask. MacLeod walked along and saluted, and Rough said he could have been the Messiah. Channon had the penalty that made it look closer than it was. Revie had the training-ground McQueen who was not McQueen. Corrigan had played the part. The crossbar had the last word.
They said it was time to deliver. They said ten years. They said a Home International. They said the goals would stand, which is a kind of certainty you only notice when they do not. If you still think this was the same Saturday as Baxter, a funeral is only a Tuesday. The crossbar is this one. The hugs were the other one. Both nights are ours. Only one of them went home on the tube with a bit of the furniture.
The film is in the National Library of Scotland's moving image archive, reel 5660: McQueen's header, Dalglish, the dubious penalty, the whistle, the climb, the posts giving up. BBC Scotland still keeps the weekend. Do not review it. Watch the crossbar go.
https://movingimage.nls.uk/film/5660
## Related reading
- [Unofficial world champions](/blogs/the-tape/unofficial-world-champions) — the other Saturday: 1967, turf, Baxter, and the night they still will not count - [Jim Baxter and the ball at Wembley](/blogs/the-tape/jim-baxter-and-the-ball-at-wembley) — the keepie-uppie that made this night's hangover - [Wembley Wizards, 1928](/blogs/the-tape/wembley-wizards-1928) — Scotland 5–1, the older furniture
If the nights sit right, the shirts and the wall are at [/shop](/shop).
## FAQ
What was the score when Scotland beat England at Wembley in 1977?
Scotland 2–1 England, on 4 June 1977 at Wembley. McQueen and Dalglish scored for Scotland; Channon converted a late penalty for England.
Did Scottish fans take the Wembley crossbar in 1977?
After the final whistle the Tartan Army came onto the pitch. Fans climbed the goal; the crossbar buckled. Contemporary film and later accounts (including Denis Law) describe the bar coming down. 1967 was turf; 1977 was turf and the bar.
Was this the same night as Baxter's keepie-uppie?
No. Baxter's night was 15 April 1967 (Scotland 3–2). This was 4 June 1977 under Ally MacLeod — the crossbar night. Do not mix them.