How Scotland's human blur Doak left £77m man in daze

At the end, it was the re-emergence of an old goalscoring hero in John McGinn that lit up the Hampden night, but in every other sense this was the dawning of the age of Doak.

Young Ben, 19, fearless and flying down Scotland's right, against Josko Gvardiol, the renowned £77m man from Manchester City. No contest.

The margin of Scotland's victory was tight. The margin of Doak's superiority was vast.

Doak was electrifying long before the endgame. The Liverpool teenager, on loan at Middlesbrough, was a whirling dervish, a human blur taking the fight to Croatia.

Yes, the visitors were the victims of a ludicrous red card call at the end of the opening half, but Scotland can write you a book on bad calls, if you wish.

When the one win you've got in 16 games was a scratchy old thing against Gibraltar, you'll take whatever Lady Luck is offering. And the red card was a welcome present.

Before Doak started to motor, this was shaping up to be a paean to Luka Modric and his delicious array of passes, his uncanny ability to make everything look so effortless and his other-worldly ability to find space in crowded places.

Scotland sent one man after another to get close to him and he counted them in and counted them back out again.

Not one Scot ruffled his feathers. That job fell instead to an Israeli. And what a job referee Orel Grinfeeld made of it. World-class whistling, from a Scottish perspective at least.

Grinfeeld sounds like a character from the Fantastic Beasts movies and, in sending off Petar Sucic just before the break, he became a beautiful creature to a previously angst-ridden home crowd.

The Tartan Army were living off their nerves to that point. Scotland were blessed to be level. Frankly, they were all over the place.

Hustled and harried and looking to all the world like they were preparing to plunge ever deeper into the bottomless pit of poor results.

Croatia should have been a goal or two to the good, but weren't. If they were frustrated, it was nothing compared to the state they were about to get themselves.

Sucic, on a booking, was adjudged to have barrelled into John Souttar and out came the red. It was unjust and, suddenly, Modric lost his shape.

He shouted, he laughed sarcastically, he waved his arms in disbelief. And then he was booked. He'll miss Portugal on Monday.

At the break, one of his coaches stared out Grinfeeld in a slightly comedic scene. When the Croatian advanced, out came a yellow card. Pantomime stuff. Wonderful.

A strange kind of Hampden Roar greeted the chaos, but it was a roar nonetheless, a roar of incredulity and of hope.

Scotland had been dreadful but the gods were smiling. And so was the wee devil, Doak.

With the numerical advantage, you expected Steve Clarke's go-to men to step forward. Scott McTominay, Andy Robertson, Billy Gilmour?

No, the one who was causing Croatia the problems was the youngest and most inexperienced one of all.

Doak broke down the right, scampering past Gvardiol, but failed to pick out Tommy Conway. Still, he signalled his intent and if the defender took notice he was still powerless to do much about it.

Doak was running free outside Gilmour and screaming for a pass when Gilmour went alone and lashed one over the bar. Chance gone.

Doak, not Modric, was now the most interesting character out there. By a distance.

He appeared at the back post and almost got on the back of Ryan Gauld's fine work. Close, but not close enough.

With 19 minutes left, he went into turbo charge and Gvardiol, one of the costliest and most composed defenders in English football, suddenly had the steadiness of a blancmange.

Doak skinned him and hit the bye-line. The ball came out to Gilmour. Big chance, Scotland. Big, ugly attempt by Gilmour.

What was impressive about Scotland was their will to win.

They made a litany of errors and you know that they can be a whole lot better than this. But they believed. They dug in. They kept going, kept trying to overcome their own shortcomings.

And Doak led the charge. Another brilliant run tormented Croatia, then he did Gvardiol again and lashed his shot at Dominik Kotarski.

The Croat looked like a man who didn't know what day of the week it was. He was hesitant and fearful of the young marauder. And he was right to be.

The next time Doak got it was the marvellous moment of mayhem that saw Scotland score. Poor, persecuted Gvardiol was left without a name again by Doak. He thundered an effort at Kotarski, who parried to McGinn. Goal.

Four minutes of normal time left, but nothing about Hampden was normal at that stage. The minutes ticked on and the winless run ended.

The Tartan Army will bid it good riddance while, at the same time, heralding the arrival of a new darling.

The World Cup draw is next month. Scotland's seeding is most likely not going to be what they would have wanted and the challenge ahead is going to be arduous, but optimism returned on Friday. And that'll do nicely for now.