There is no shame in being laid out by an absolute worldie of a goal. No great disgrace in being put to the sword by a former Ballon D’Or winner still capable, clearly, of producing golden moments of pure genius.
As they took the applause of a grateful support at full-time, Steve Clarke’s men will know that their efforts just in reaching these European Championships will always be appreciated.
But the manner of their exit from the tournament isn’t, ultimately, what matters.
Scotland were beaten 3-1 by Croatia as they crashed out of Euro 2020 at the group stages
Luka Modric spearheaded the Croats' performance with a stunning goal to make it 2-1
The midfielder hit a shot with the outside of his right foot and the ball flew into the top corner
They won’t put an asterisk next to the score to denote how bravely the boys in blue performed against a better, more technically gifted and talented group of footballers in their final Euro 2020 fixture.
All that really counts is that the great adventure, Scotland’s long-awaited return from the international wilderness, is at an end.
And honestly? It hurts. Hurts like all get out. As it should. If you’re not in a world of pain, if pride in the jersey isn’t overshadowed by a big dollop of suffering, then what does that say about our collective sense of ambition?
Everyone desperately wanted our boys to extend their visit to the big time beyond the duration of their usual tourist visa.
Failure, even against a side who made it to the World Cup final just three summers ago, has to carry a sting. Although we should be used to it by now, of course.
The Tartan Army's exit from Euro 2020 hurts after 23-year wait to appear at a tournament
Think of all the great men who had tried and failed to pull off the achievement of getting beyond the group stages in a major finals.
In a different footballing age, when the difficulty of smaller tournaments was offset by the presence of so many genuine whipping boys in the world game, it proved beyond the very finest players – and coaches – Scotland has ever produced.
So no, there was no great sense of fury or frustration among those lucky enough to have been at Hampden on Tuesday Merely an acceptance that, when it comes to tournament football, this is just what Scotland do.
Be honest, now. Some of you expected this to happen. No amount of front could hide the fear that always lurks just beneath the surface, where our national team are concerned.
Everything we’d been through, up to this point, every instance of snatching catastrophic defeat from the slippery jaws of victory, has become embedded in the Scottish psyche like shrapnel in scarred flesh.
There are times when it feels as if a virulent strain of hopelessness - a deadness of the soul that goes beyond mere footballing nihilism - has become inexorably entangled in the double helix of our DNA.
Yet here, on home soil and in front of their ain folk, was a chance for the class of 2021 to remove that deep-seeded fear from our collective code.
A game offering us all that any Scotland fan could ever hope for. An opportunity for Clarke’s men to shape their own destiny.
The national mood had already undergone a fairly major transformation in the wake of Wembley.
Supporters were hopeful Steve Clarke's side could make history by progressing to the last 16
A new sense of optimism, that most cruel of
