So, what was it that first attracted you to the island of Gran Canaria with its 235km of coastline, beautiful beaches, glorious golf courses, a climate where it’s 25C today, not nudging zero like back in Nottingham or Sheffield, and a football team where you can get the better of Kylian Mbappé and beat Barcelona? “Oli was here,” Scott McKenna says. There’s a smile and then the man sitting next to him starts laughing.
On 25 July Unión Deportiva Las Palmas announced they had signed Oliver Robert McBurnie, the first Scottish footballer in their history, and only the second Briton after Vinny Samways, an icon on the island. Two weeks later, they had another, McKenna joining his old mate. Now here they are in the sunshine at the Barranco Seco training ground: the original odd couple. One defender, one striker. One quiet, that first line delivered deliciously deadpan, the other forever falling about. “Me and Scott are so different, opposites,” McBurnie says. “He’s so laid back. In the best possible way, he’s like a grumpy old man. I call him mi abuelo, my grandad.”
“I think that’s a compliment,” McKenna says.
They’re some pair, living the life. “Coming here was an opportunity for us: a different league, and a top one,” McKenna says. “Unless you’re playing for a Champions League team, you’ll probably never get the opportunity to play Madrid or Barcelona. My grandparents are in Tenerife six months a year, not far away. And Oli signing first made it easier.”
Maybe even made it possible. McBurnie got involved in McKenna’s transfer. “Yeah, I tried to convince them not to sign him,” the former Sheffield United striker says, laughing. “When I joined, Luis [Helguera, the sporting director] called me in and asked about Scott. We’ve played together for years. He was out of contract, like me, and could choose. It’s funny, a lot of the clubs that made us offers were the same ones. They definitely seemed interested in a different style, something ‘British’. With Scott, especially. Las Palmas said: we need a defender who’s strong, physical, wins duels.”
“Even simpler,” McKenna says, “they just needed a bit of height.”
“Oh definitely,” McBurnie replies, laughing, raising an arm high. “The first thing everyone said to us was: ‘Grande! grande!’ I think the scouting department had seem them struggle with set pieces. That was good for us. This was one where I thought that if I didn’t take the opportunity, I would regret it. I had been in Sheffield for five years, it was time for a change.
“I had one other Spanish club but Las Palmas did a presentation saying what they needed, how they play, where I fit in, all about the island and the culture. They had footage of me from years ago, they had done their research and made me feel really wanted. And I know they did the same with Scott. He flew out to look around before signing, we went for dinner and talked about it. I should ask about my commission.”
Within three weeks of agent McBurnie’s work being completed, they both started as Las Palmas held Real Madrid to a draw. Only held isn’t the word: Madrid needed a penalty, the islanders disappointed not to win. And while McKenna admits it might not have been a glamorous game for the visitors, travelling more than 1,000 miles, and McBurnie says it is Atlético who have most impressed him, something grabbed them that night which is seen in training too, a question of culture as well as quality.
“That Madrid game was when I fully realised that playing in Spain was different,” McBurnie says. “You know when you’re at Sheffield United or Forest and you’re playing Manchester City away and you put 19 men behind the ball and try to nick a 0-0? It wasn’t like that. I was taken aback by the quality after just a few days’ training: the ability in small spaces, to take the ball wherever. That night we had the ball, played some really good stuff, created opportunities. That was the most enjoyable part of it … for me anyway. I reckon Scott would prefer 19 men behind the ball!”
For the defender, it’s been different. There’s been less heading – “far less” – and only one booking for a start. “But there are a few teams that have gone more direct than I expected though, and the last few weeks [since Las Palmas changed coach and appointed Diego Martínez] we’ve done that more too,” McKenna says. “It depends what league you’re in and the situation you’re in too. At Forest we always wanted to play; we tried. But you get found out in the Premier League. We transitioned to sitting and playing on the counter, and were far better.
“There are passes that [teammates here] might not see as a risk but which feel like more of a risk for me. In England, it might be: ‘Don’t play inside where all the bodies are.’ But here the central midfielders can combine, however many are pressing them.”
McBurnie chips in. “It’s nice that you can just give it to the midfielders – you’ve said that lots of times. For me, watching Scott, it’s the confidence they give him to trust them. Play that pass, it will stick. And if they lose it, not your fault. In England, often the manager is like: ‘Why are you playing that pass?’ And if you’re in two minds, the mentality is play the long one. Here it’s: play that pass, play that pass, play that pass. In training the midfielders have three men around them and still shout at Scott to give it.”
Nor was it just Madrid, the pair fast becoming fan favourites. And although Las Palmas struggled, losing five of their next six, they have recovered under Martínez, who has tightened things up, shifting towards something a little more like what the Scots knew before – “I think it’s been easier for us to transition back than for the Spanish lads,” McKenna admits – and Las Palmas have won four of six under him, including victory at Barcelona last Saturday, their first there in 53 years.
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One local paper called McKenna the banana braveheart, having previously referred to him as William Wallace. Three days later McBurnie, who has played less since the change even though Martínez is impressed, scored two in the Copa del Rey. Mind you, he thought it could have been eight. Still, “poco a poco, hermano,” he says. Bit by bit, brother.
The Spanish is coming along, then? The football language is the easy bit and the swear words come early, although de puta madre, a seemingly very bad phrase applied to the very best things, was confusing and the pair crack up telling linguistic horror stories. They’re learning separately, with different teachers and methods that reflect different characters, but it all comes together again, which feels fitting. “We speak to everyone in Spanish,” McBurnie says. “I understand one half, Scott understands the other and we get through. I think we’re doing all right, aren’t we? We’re getting there.”
“We come in in the morning: ‘What were you learning last night?’” McKenna says. “The problem is the players want to practise their English. My teacher wants me to speak properly, carefully. Oli just goes off on one. He’s getting there faster. When people reply with something not straight out the book, I find it harder. I say: ‘No hablo mucho español pero lo intento; I don’t speak much Spanish but I’m trying,’ and they appreciate the effort. People have been brilliant. It’s so different, so laid back compared to back home.”
Which is just what was needed, for McBurnie in particular. This has been a difficult year. The death of his friend George Baldock was devastating, his grandmother passed away, and his brother Xander has been through Hodgkin’s lymphoma, thankfully now beaten it. Coming to Las Palmas has helped, a fresh start and a new lifestyle, a chance to leave behind the pressure, the intrusion. It is nice to be left alone. “For me, yeah, 100%” McBurnie says. “We’re completely different personalities, though,” McKenna adds.
“Scott’s so chilled, he never gets into any bother, any predicaments, anything: he’s just easy-going. And obviously I’ve had my past and kind of attracted that side of it. I kind of complain, but I can’t have it both ways.” He was found not guilty of assault after a pitch invasion in May 2022 and the year before was handed a caution after an altercation in the street, when someone confronted him.
“He had actually gone for my missus,” McBurnie says. “Have a go at me as much as you like, but it’s her. I should have just, like [left it]. I’m out in Leeds, it’s normal: I’ve had that since I was 16. But she’s new to it, doesn’t understand this world, you know? She’s like: what’s going on? There are three lads. Of course it’s [scary]. She’s only five minutes from home, where she wants to feel safe, and three lads go at her. Again, I was probably in the wrong, but I’m just a normal person, you know?
“‘He’s a footballer, he gets paid a lot of money so he should never react how a normal person reacts.’ I get it. I completely get it. I understand we’re in a privileged position but in the heat of the moment you make errors of judgment. ‘People’s role model.’ Never have me as your role model. I’m trying to be more like my abuelo now. Here, I don’t have that. I’ve also grown up a bit: I’m a father, I have to. I had kind of forgotten all that already, but it’s nice not to be hassled. You don’t get any grief.”
Besides, if anyone does have a go here, you might not understand anyway. “That doesn’t happen though,” McKenna replies, everything pretty close to ideal on the island. “Even when we were losing there was no negativity at all. It’s always positive, there’s always support.”
“We both signed for three years and we intend to stay, don’t we?” McBurnie says, turning to his friend. “Whatever happens, we’ll get Spanish. And a better tan. My daughter’s five months old and it’s a wonderful place to grow up. She’ll have English, Welsh and Spanish. This has made me see what a big thing languages are; I was a bit naive before, you think you’ll never need a foreign language. But add Spanish and you have half the world. Living here is beautiful, the weather is perfect, it’s great for golf … and the football’s not bad either.”
