Hugh Keevins: Who are ya?

What a moment for the press, be they radio, newspaper or television journalists. That bunch of professionals collectively known as the 'Meeja' by football supporters throughout the land have been vindicated.

Chris Martin comes on for Scotland on Sunday night when the score is nil-nil against Slovenia in our Group F World Cup qualifying tie and is booed by the Tartan Army at Hampden Park.

Condemned without kicking a ball. Found guilty by the court of public opinion before the trial is over and done with and the jury have been sent to consider their verdict

Seconds later he scores the goal that keeps our qualification hopes alive.

How do you like it?

Will you now admit that it is not just the media who can occasionally be guilty of getting it wrong?

Of course you won't, because that would upset the divide between us and them.

But the crowd booed Martin. The television cameras and sound equipment men picked it up and the player had the good grace afterwards to pretend that he hadn't heard the verbal abuse he received.

So there. The supporters are as guilty of errors of judgement as the press can be from time to time. Get over it.

I was the one who said on Superscoreboard on Saturday afternoon that Martin had scored no goals for Scotland because I refused to count the pair he had come by against Gibraltar and Malta as legitimate entries into his international record.

I stand by every word.

Gibraltar and Malta have no place in international football. They are souped up junior teams playing in a professional environment. But now Martin has scored a goal which is worthy of recognition in this qualifying group.

It won't be enough to get us to the World Cup finals in Russia next year, in my opinion, but it showed that what was suspected of being a corpse is still capable of twitching.

And don't rush to tell me that I'm being pessimistic over our prospects of qualification for the World Cup finals. I didn't pay £46 to get into Hampden, boo the substitute when he came on and then danced a jig when he scored.

I called his capabilities into question until he proved me wrong against decent opposition. Well done to him.

Now we're back to where we started.

I have said all along that Scotland win the games they should and consistently fail to deliver in the matches where they could deliver an unexpectedly positive result that would surprise us.

Well here is the time and place to contradict that opinion.

Hampden Park. June 10. Scotland v England.

Take away all of your photographs of Mel Gibson, your Braveheart CDs and the other paraphernalia that doesn't amount to a thing.

England are no great shakes. We're playing at home. Lose and we're done for so far as the World Cup finals are concerned.

Are we up to it?

I wouldn't give you two bob for our chances.

And don't you dare accuse me of pessimism. You booed Chris Martin on to the pitch because you pre-judged his ability to turn around a match that was headed towards a draw and the premature end of our World Cup qualification hopes.

And the fans were proved to be wrong.

You don't know everything. The press don't know everything. We're both dancing in the dark because none of us can tell the future.

Do you get it now?

In the meantime, thanks to Martin for giving us a magnificent end to the season.

Roll on Dens Park on Friday night to see if Dundee can prevent a premature end to the so called title race when the play Aberdeen.

Roll on Ibrox on Saturday to see if Pedro Caixinha can dismiss Motherwell and stiffen the suggestion that Brendan Rodgers might just have a managerial competitor on his hands.

And roll on Tynecastle on Sunday to see if Celtic can win the title without losing a game.

Then we can get to the game against England in June to see if Hampden on Sunday was a mirage or a pointer.

But don't tell me that, whatever I predict, my opinion is inferior to yours. I didn't boo Chris Martin on to the park at Hampden just before he scored.

You got it wrong. Live with it. I have to do that most weekends. There is no monopoly on wisdom.

As Gordon Strachan would say "Trust me."

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• Hugh Keevins