THERE is a grey patch on UEFA's colourful, 53-team qualifying map, a dull area unbothered by Michel Platini's grand vision of an expanded European Championship.

A vision, by the way, that has been an unexpected success. Whatever the reason for it, the expanded format has given hope to also-rans, and only one top seed is currently leading their section - England, funnily enough. There is no procession to France, and there are stories to be told across all the groups: Austria, Iceland, Northern Ireland; Slovakia.

Most striking was the battle of Belgrade, where Serbian supporters proved that they could, after all, start a fight in a half-empty stadium. Albania fans were not allowed to attend, although they did send a proxy. You will have seen the video by now; the drone, the flag, the scrap, the violence, the blood. A player was hit by a plastic chair. The Serbian ultras - led by Ivan Bogdanov, made infamous when he used wire cutters to open a fence that had kept rabid Serbia fans from Italian supporters in Genoa - stormed the pitch.

And the Albanian players are not without blame. Pre-match, they stoked the fire. "Serbs must fall on their knees," Taulant Xhaka, the Basle defender, wrote on Facebook. When they stood belting out the national anthem the Serbian crowd whistled and howled racist slurs: 'death to shiptars'.

Edi Rama, the Albanian prime minister, is due to make an historic visit - the first in 70 years - to the Serbian capital this week. But they have instead taken to squabbling in the press. Local media accused Rama's brother Orfi of flying the drone. "I've never controlled a drone in my life!" Orfi said, a little oddly.

Who was behind it? Was it the brother? Someone piloting the drone from a balcony outside? 'Delije' ultras have tried to have games deliberately abandoned in the past. It is a predictable mess, and not just for the two nations front and centre.

That little grey area on UEFA's map belongs, of course, to Kosovo.

It is a hopeless task to distil the history of this slice of the Balkan peninsula into a few paragraphs. But it makes for an enthralling, painful read: the story of a prince's curse and a statesman's speech. Suffice to say, for Serbia, Kosovo is holy ground, with many important churches and shrines of their Orthodox church within the border. The website for Bogdanov's ultras has for its banner: 'Kosovo is Serbia'.

But the majority of the population is of Albanian descent, and the issue strikes a chord with all those of Balkan descent. "Kosovo is Serbian if my mother is a virgin," was the not entirely helpful view of Zlatan Ibrahimovic this week.

The nascent nation, that declared independence in 2008, has also travelled some way along the path to footballing significance. Sepp Blatter, while few would argue that his stewardship of the game has not been murky and bloated, is also a proven progressive and champion of small nations. On his say so, FIFA have allowed Kosovo to play international friendlies - when UEFA and Platini would not - as long as they do not play other Balkan states.

It was a titanic step forward. Unknown to many, there is a footballing wilderness outside FIFA, more barren even than the Juniors, where unrecognised self-declared independent nations take turns to entertain one another in dark corners of the globe.

The ConIFA World Cup took place over the summer, in Lapland, weeks before the real one. The County of Nice won, as a late replacement for Zanzibar - they could not obtain passports, ironically - and among those taking part were Iraqi Kurdistan, South Ossetia, Occitania and Tamil Eelam. The Isle of Man will host next year's edition.

Out of that darkness, then, have stepped Kosovo. Their case is stronger - they are recognised by more than half of the world's countries, and are members of the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank - but those who would reject them shout more loudly.

They played their first match against Haiti in March - a 0-0 draw in the Adem Jashari Stadium, named after one of the founders of the Kosovo Liberation Army. They have since lost to Turkey and Senegal and defeated Oman. Better still, Blatter has forced Platini's hand, and the Frenchman has travelled to Pristina to discuss their football integration.

What a generation they might have been enjoying. Adnan Januzaj waited and waited, before opting for Belgium. Lorik Cana, of Lazio, is the Albanian captain who played the other night. Napoli's Valon Behrami and Granit Xhaka of Borussia Moenchengladbach are Switzerland players, having been forced to look elsewhere. The best of the lot, Bayern Munich's Xherdan Shaqiri, refused to celebrate after scoring against Albania for the Swiss.

That generation, in the face of international oblivion, had to make difficult choices. There is a new breed, though, who have the chance to choose. Herald Sport spoke to Bersant Celina, the 18-year-old Manchester City striker of Kosovan descent who earned his first 'cap' in September. "I was born there, I moved to Norway when I was two because of the war," he says.

"It just felt amazing to wear the shirt, to be able to represent the country you are from. The fans are so proud of us. They love football and have a national team now." And things have changed. "It's just different," he adds. "Before, it was football. Now, when you play for Kosovo, it's history and everything."

Celina is understandably cagey when asked about the violence last Tuesday. But he concedes it will not do Kosovo's chances of joining UEFA any good. "Of course, yeah," he admits. "It will make it more difficult. It made me feel, how the Serbians … I don't want to say anything bad. It was embarrassing."

But he remains optimistic. "In the end, I think, it will go the good way."

First, however, UEFA have to pick through the rubble of an abandoned match, and lessons must be learned. There is talk of hefty fines, a match being played behind closed doors - there are ways to pour water on these fiery showdowns. There is nothing to stop the tie being played in France, Germany, or even in Iceland if that's far enough away.

(The odd thing in all this is that UEFA were so worried about the prospect of a Gibraltar-Spain match that when they were drawn together they shifted the minnows to another group. Perhaps they feared that the notorious Gibraltan ultras would descend upon Madrid or Valencia and pointedly not leave a tip when paying for their decaf tea.)

We must not forget that football has also done its fair share of healing. For every El Salvador, and its spark for the Soccer War, there is a Yerevan, where the presidents of Turkey and Armenia had their first formal diplomatic relations behind bullet-proof glass at Hrazdan Stadium.

Some say sport and politics should not mix. The truth is that they cannot do otherwise. But Kosovo deserve more than to have this block their road to football recognition.