The open letter from the Boston Globe said it plainly: “Guests like you we have never received.” Days later, Boston mayor Michelle Wu signed a sister city agreement with Glasgow, surrounded by kilted supporters singing “No Scotland, no party.” The Tartan Army, up to 50,000 strong, had not merely attended Scotland’s first World Cup matches in 28 years; they had, in the words of the Globe, left the city “far more” than they came with. The pact, inked before the fans decamped for Miami, turned a week of bagpipe processions, emptied pubs, and a floating harbour bar into an improbable diplomatic outcome.

That occupation of Boston rewrote the host-city playbook. Scotland’s 1-0 win over Haiti and 1-0 loss to Morocco were almost secondary to the daily rhythm of fan marches, renditions of “Flower of Scotland”, and a self-regulating revelry that saw bars run dry and breweries scramble extra deliveries. Police tolerated street drinking and the placing of traffic cones on statues; the mayor shortened overnight curfews. Viewed from the United States, the scenes confounded expectations: a 5,000-strong Tartan Army takeover of a Boston Red Sox baseball game, and a front-page tribute that read like a proposal of permanent union. German observers noted the fans’ “exemplary self-regulation” and the absence of violence, a reputation burnished during Euro 2024.

Miami, where the Scots have now landed for Wednesday’s group finale against Brazil, offers a sharp contrast. The city is larger, more diffuse, and home to a sizeable Latino community that includes many Brazil and Argentina supporters. Fans describe the shift as moving from a football trip to a holiday with a match attached. Boat trips along the coast and bars on Ocean Drive have replaced the concentrated “mini-Scotland” of Boston. The heat index has touched 43°C, and local police have already signalled a different approach: a video showed officers ordering a fan to remove a cone from a statue with the admonition that he was “not in Boston anymore.” Yet a march through Little Havana to a Miami Marlins baseball game drew locals onto front lawns to cheer, and one resident lamented that his kilt had not arrived in time.

On the pitch, Scotland’s campaign hangs on the Brazil fixture. Steve Clarke’s side have displayed the familiar mix of relentless effort and limited craft, and after a win and a defeat, a first-ever progression from the group stage—after eight failed attempts—remains possible. The Tartan Army’s mood, however, has never been tethered to results. Brazilian media have highlighted the visual spectacle of the kilts and the “No Scotland, no party” chant, while British outlets report fans weighing extended stays regardless of the outcome.

The immediate sporting consequence is clear: a result against Brazil will either end Scotland’s tournament or carry them into the knockout rounds for the first time. Whatever happens, the sister city agreement with Boston stands as a concrete legacy of a fan movement that, in the assessment of one US columnist, had already earned the region the unofficial moniker “New Scotland.”