Thursday 30 September 2010

Motherwell FC: Getting Amongst The Goals


As stated at the end of last weeks blog, this one would have a lot more to do with football than just reminiscing. I say that, it's going to have both, as I recount my all time favourite Well goals, culminating in a personal Top 5, which, if any of my fellow Well fans read, can be debated in the comments section below.

The first goal I ever saw Motherwell score in the flesh was on Boxing Day 1994. Layered with jumpers, jackets and hats, with my first ever Well kit worn over the top, shorts and all, I witnessed Rab Shannon bundle the ball over the line against Falkirk at Brockville. Apart form being freezing cold, all I remember is the goal and it taking an age to unlayer to take a pee against the wall that was the Falkirk toilets.

Over the next few seasons, I would see many goals fly in from Tommy Coyne and Dougie Arnott. Wee Dougie was the scourge of the Old Firm, while TC finished top scorer in the Premier League in the 94/95 season. The first goal of Cobra Coyne's that I saw was a penalty he scored at Tannadice. It was even more special as it was in front of the travelling support, to level the game at one a piece. Tragically, Well fell to a crushing 6-1 defeat that day. The one and only time I have cried at a game, watching my heroes capitulate to Jerren Nixon cutting about wearing gloves.

That season I made it to a fair few away games, including my all time favourite away game against Aberdeen. Here is where number 5 in my list of favourite Well goals was scored.

Number 5: Rab McKinnon v Aberdeen, Feb.1995

Leading 1-0 from an Alex Burns first half strike, the game looked to be petering out to a slim but deserved win. With around 10 minutes left, Arnott beats the offside trap and is bearing down on goal. dons legend Theo Snelders commits himself and brings Wee Dougie down on the apek of the box. Red card for Snelders and a rookie Michael Watt comes on in his place.

I'd had a blocked nose all week, and even had a day off school with the flu in the build up to the game. Throughout the match I'd been sniffling away and no amount of nose blowing was ridding me of the bogeys.

Lambert and McKinnon hovered over the ball. Lambert ran over the ball, back heeling it to the burly ginger left back. Rab let fly with his left boot WOOF! right in to the top corner. As the ball nestled behind Watt and the team ran to where we were all standing, the fan in front of me punched me square in the dish with exuberance.

Normally a punch of that magnitude would floor a 9 year old, but instead it cleared my passages and I took my first proper breath for 7 days, celebrating the first wonder goal of my Well supporting life.

That squad and that era of Motherwell FC will always have a place in my heart as it acted as an area of nostalgia during my teenage years. Being able to revel in 2 wins at Ibrox which we haven't managed since then, European forays for the first time, desperate times where we needed a Joe Miller own goal to break a 6 game scoring duck against Falkirk and going from splitting the Old Firm to escaping relegation in the space of a season, all show how much of a ride it is following the Well.

Other memorable goals from McLeish's time in charge include Ian Ross' last minute winner against Celtic when Jamie Dolan played half the game in goals, Owen Coyle's double against Rangers to spoil the 9 In a Row party and a special free kick from curly haired Dutchman which will be remembered shortly.

Number 4 on the list comes a few seasons later during a time of major transition at Motherwell. John Boyle came in as Chairman and so began the big money era which almost closed down the club. With his focus on making Well the "Third Force" in Scottish football, Boyle made some marquee signings and brought fans through the gates, but when the club almost went in to administration, the delusions of grandeur Boyle had almost fizzled out too.

Billy Davies took over from Harri Kampman's short reign and his first game in charge resulted in a thumping defeat away to St Johnstone. Next up was a midweek game against Rangers and Boyle's money helped to recruit 3 players who would make a difference to our season. Ged Brannan, Benito Kemble and John Spencer.

Number 4: John Spencer v Rangers October 1998

Never have I been more wound up about a game against Rangers or Celtic. Knowing the club was going in a new direction, more money was being pumped in and JB's plans, I felt that a defeat would be a massive let down. Plus my mate Boab's wee brother was winding me up by being just that, my mates annoying wee brother. As a Gers fan, everything about him annoyed me. Even coming to the game with us, talking about how we were going to get gubbed was ripping my knitting.

Thankfully he was sat nowhere near us. That night I shouted and yelled at every forward motion the Well made. From what I remember it was mostly a backs to the wall affair, the type of game against the Old Firm I had become accustomed to. Sat slightly behind a pillar in my ticketed seat in the East, I strained myself to see above the rising crowd as we attacked towards the Cooper. Something happened that I couldn't quite see.

And then BOOM! the loudest roar I'd heard at Fir Park to that point erupted as the smallest man on the park, John Spencer, raced towards the dugout after putting us 1-0 up. As the stand erupted as a whole, so did I inside. I was going mental, shouting, punching the air, waving my scarf, standing on my seat. At 13 my hormones were all over the place anyway, but at that moment I was euphoric. I hadn't seen it but it happened and I was loving it.

Boab's wee brother was crying when I saw him outside the stadium.

Spencer and Brannan and Goram and Kemble and Goodman and er, John Davies took us to 4th the next season and only just missed out on a Euro spot after beating Rangers on the last day only for either Hibs or Hearts to have won or lost against each other to beat us to third.

After the administration palaver came the Youth Revolution and most notably the rise of Hammell, Pearson and McFadden. Faddy is, was and always will be a legend to most Motherwell fans. To my generation of supporters, he's our Pettigrew, our Joe Wark. Supported on the left buy Pearo and Hammell, he contributed to the majority of goals we scored and games we won despite being at our lowest ebb. His finest moment for the Well probably came against Livingston where he scored a hat trick in one of his final appearances for us.

I missed it. As we are now in my teenage years, Saturday's meant work.The last hat trick I witnessed in the flesh was John Spencer's against Aberdeen in the mental 6-5 game of years gone by. Since then I have missed hat tricks from David Ferrere, David Clarkson, Richie Foran, Chris Porter, if Scott McDonald got one, I missed his too and any others in between that I have not remembered. Guttingly, I missed Faddy's.

Instead, I was making pies and square sausage in Alexander's butchers, listening to Super Scoreboard. Had I not been, McFadden's Panenka style penalty would have made the list. but it doesn't because a) I wasn't there and b) I've still never seen it!

Instead, Number 3 goes to the much maligned Marc Fitzpatrick.

Number 3: Marc Fitzpatrick v Hearts, February 2005

It's safe to say that amongst the Well support (and I imagine every football team), there are sections who will find opportunity to moan at most occasions. Sometimes when times are tough, one player can become a scapegoat. This can be given rightly or wrongly, but it does happen. Fitzpatrick has come in for some stick in the last few seasons, particularly in Mark McGhee's second season when the whole team failed to meet the high expectation the previous season had out on them.

Like Shaun Fagan before him, Fitzy has been accused of not being to SPL standard and riding on the crest of the wave of scoring an amazingly important goal. Where this criticism was rightly levelled at Fagan after his winner versus Celtic in the game where Faddy ran the show, I feel it is a little harsh on Fitzpatrick and his full merits may be talked of in a future blog, but for now lets concentrate on his winner v the Jambos.

2-0 up at Easter Road against Hearts in the CIS Semi Final, to make it more exciting, Well throw away that lead in the last ten minutes. Extra time comes. Butcher takes off Foran, our key penalty taker. Penalties loom. Hearts corner. Headed clear. Midfield gets ball. Fitzpatrick gets ball on left. Runs straight for Hearts box. No one can get near him. Ball leaves foot. Ball hits net. Half a stadium empties. Half a stadium blows roof off stadium.

The ecstasy of that Spencer goal v Rangers is replaced by the bedlam in Leith that night. Our first Cup final since 1991, the first semi we had won in my time going to Well games, the first game I'd been to since being at Uni, all culminated in one of the biggest highs I've felt. Leaving the ground the wrong way was a bad idea, as Morton and myself found ourselves in the middle of a Hibs and Hearts gauntlet, flanked by police horses.

The Jambo on the train back to Glasgow with us didn't speak the whole journey.


I'll crack on with Number 2 shall I? Well done for sticking with me this far. As I write, I feel I've done more work on this one blog than I did during my whole dissertation last year.

Number 2: Mitchell Van Der Gaag v Dunfermline April 1997

My primary school and pretty much every primary school in Lanarkshire it seemed, were given free tickets to the last home game of the 96/97 season. So large was the crowd that me and David Kennedy ended up in the top tier of the away stand for this vital game. A loss would have put us in the relegation play off. 2-0 down approaching half time, Kennedy went to the toilet and missed Mickey Weir scoring a volley from the edge of the box to reduce the deficit.

As the second half wore on, Kennedy got antzy again and returned to us getting a free kick around 35 yards out. Coyne feigns to pass it to Coyle, who runs over the ball. Coyne lays it off to Mitchell Van Der Gaag, our most expensive signing, resplendent in white strip and golden curls. The ball flies off his boot past Hamish French, past Gerry Britton, past Ivo Den Bieman and near rips the net off the goals.

At this point, for some unknown reason, I'd tied a knot in my scarf and subsequently near took Kennedy's eye out with it as i swung it around my head in jubilation. When someone unearthed that goal on youtube last year, I sat and watched it for about an hour remembering the majesty of it. Here it is for anyone who hasn't seen it.
Classic!

At this juncture, I will give some honourable mentions. Skippy Sunday was obviously a big deal, but can't be put on the list due to me forgetting it was an early kick off and ending up watching it with 30 Rangers fans and 1 Celtic fan in my student halls communal area. Mickey Weir's wonder strike that helped relegate Raith would make a top ten. Even though sat in the Cooper with Flemi, Boab, and Kipper made it look like the best goal ever, it doesn't have as much of an emotional connection.

As much as I love the goal and have watched it so many times on video and on youtube that it is etched on my retinas, Colin O'Neill's 90 yarder v Celtic in the 91 Semi has a special place in my heart, but not on my list because I wasn't there. Likewise, Kirkie's form the same game and Uncle Phil's "Brave As A Lion" header.

A culmination of occasion, drama, despair, hope, skill, execution, emotion and everything I love about being a Well fan contributes to my Number 1 All Time Favourite Well Goal...So Far.

Number 1: Lukasz Jutkiewicz v Hibs May 2010

I knew I'd set the Sky+ for a reason. Every MFC supporter knows that if a game is on telly, the chances of us getting a result are very slim. This was evident when shortly after half time in what was essentially a European place playoff, we found ourselves 6-2 down to a hibs team that to be honest weren't that good. as solid as Reynolds and Craigan had been for most of the season, they gifted Hibs 5 goals, while Coke gave them another.

Coke and Sutton had scored in the first half before Hibs hit 6. Coke got a second. Hately scored one of the worst free kicks ever in to a returning Graeme Smith, who made himself look like a worse version of the keeper he is perceived to be on a number of occasions that night. Sutton scored a peach of a header to make it 6-5 with just over 10 minutes left.

Jutkiewicz was felled by the idiotic Smith in the box with 5 left. Forbes has the spot kick saved. Even at 6-5 and a missed penalty, no one in the East Stand felt the game was over. The scoreboard stops counting time at 90 minutes and an agonising wait begins. the Hibs fans in the ground are nervy but buoyant. Thicot heads the ball in to the Well half and Sutton pumps the ball right up in the air.

The Juke chases the punt. Thicot and Stevenson flank him and usher him wide as the ball is still bouncing. It's in the box now. It hits The Juke on the head and as it drops, the east stand takes one unified inhalation. From the tightest of angles, on the strangest of nights, at the timeliest of times, Lukasz Jutkiewicz swings his left boot to volley the dropping ball.

It goes over Thicot. It flies past Stevenson. Smith grasps at thin air. The ball fizzes in at the back post. This beats the noise and overwhelming joy of any of the previously listed goals. The massive inhalation turns to a roar of so much magnitude that everyone screaming can't feel the strain on their vocal chords. Unparalleled footballing joy.

As the whole squad dog pile son Jutkiewicz and Jim O'Brien hugs a steward, Barnes and I are hugging strangers, jumping on seats and in general having it. What a game! What a goal! What a way to make your way in to Motherwell FC history!

To this day, I still shiver when I see the goal. The broadest of smiles sweeps across my face. For a while, I would go on my exercise bike while watching the second half to experience joy while straining myself to get fit. For 4 months it sat there on my Sky+ planner, serving as a memory, a motivational tool and a piece of history of a night I'd never forget.

As I mounted my bike for the first time since my holiday, I switched my TV planner on. The game was gone. Either my darling fiancee had endulged in a bit of random TV housekeeping or I'd deleted it by accident! My money is on Elaine. I'd have noticed if Ihad deleted it, mainly because I WOULDN'T HAVE DELETED IT!!!!

Maybe it is serving as a sign. Don't look to the past Kris,says the Sky Box, look to the future. Sure this was your favourite goal EVER, but maybe it's a signal that Nick Blackman, Jamie Murphy, John Sutton, Esteban Casagolda, Bob McHugh or any of the current or future squads will better it...

Here's to future memories of Motherwell goals that remind us of those of the past!

Up The Well!!!
(and thanks for reading this epic epic blog!)

Kris Jack









Thursday 23 September 2010

Motherwell FC : Starting Them Young


How My Family Got Me Hooked On The Mighty Well.


I had just turned 6 when Motherwell won the Scottish Cup in 1991. I remember my Grandad beaming from ear to ear about it, the only time I'd seen him happy about sport, apart from when the Snooker was on. My cousin, who was 10 at the time was ecstatic about it too, coming home emblazoned in Claret and Amber, minus the flag the police had taken off him at Hampden, as his Ginger hair and over exuberance clearly meant he would chib a Dundee United fan with it.

Me, I was much calmer. In part due to the fact I'd run myself ragged at my best pals birthday party, in part due to the fact I wasn't that bothered. At 5 years old, I wasn't much of a football head. Indeed I was happy enough playing Alex Kidd, the inbuilt game on my Sega Master System, and playing tig. I didn't need to be kicking a ball about.

That changed when I was about 8. Something just clicked and it was football, football, football. In what my cousin probably saw as target practice, I would beg him to come out and play football with me all the time, and I'd be the goalie just so he would play. His friend even loaned me an old Rangers goalie top for our kick abouts out the back. Jumpers for goalposts might be a cliche, but making a one handed, finger tip save to turn a bullet free kick round my raincoat stantion, made me feel like a hero.

I was 9 by the time I got to go to my first Well game. I remember every detail of it. Getting the lunchtime train from Lanark to Motherwell. having a pie for lunch in Aulds on the Parade. Walking through the East stand turnstile and smelling more pie grease and cigar smoke on the way up the steps.

Alex McLeish had just taken over from Tommy McLean, and we were enjoying a lengthy unbeaten run. We were facing an Aberdeen team who had made a poor start to the season and the form book suggested it would be an easy 3 points. I say form book, I mean the amount of research I'd done. I've always been fastidious in my approach to things and I think this started with my love of The Well. I'd been compiling match reports, programmes my cousin had brought back from games, newspaper clippings and so on all season, so by the time my first game came along, I was a Mini Statto.

After a non descript first half, I was hooked. Never before had I seen so many people in one place. I'd never heard swearing like it. I'd never heard women swearing at all. The vibrancy of the green grass under the floodlights as it got dark hypnotised me. I was freezing but it was magic.

The fact that 7 minutes in to the second half, Chris McCart scored the first of a number of own goals I would see him turn past his own goalie, condemning us to our first defeat in ages, didn't faze me. I was now a Motherwell fan til I die.

16 years on and my passion hasn't weaned. At 25, my job means I can't get to the games as much as I would like due to work, but when I do, I become that 9 year old again. Walking in to the East Stand gives me the same thrill, sharing in the highs and lows of my beloved Well.

What makes it even better for me is that my nephews are exactly the same. Aged 8 and 3, they are Well obsessed. While the older one has discovered other childhood distractions like Tae Kwan Do, WWE and computer games, his wee brother can't get enough of the Well.

It has literally been 2 years since I last saw him NOT wearing any Motherwell gear. He couldn't even stay smartly dressed last Christmas after he got a new shirt. (Pictured.) I visited him yesterday with his present from my holiday in Florida. I asked him what he thought it could be.

"Murrawell Top" he answered.

It wasn't, it was a car from Cars and he loved it anyway. He wasn't wearing his new home top yesterday as he isn't allowed to wear it to nursery, but as he told Gran-Gran, he wears his 'Well socks instead, because they can't see them.

He sits with his big brother and his Grandad in the same seats I sat in growing up watching the likes of Dougie Arnott, Tommy Coyne, Stevie Kirk and Brian Martin, shouting on his favourite crop of players, Stephen Craigan, Jamie Murphy and last season "BIG JOHN RUDDYYYYYYYYYYY"!!!!

Indeed the wee man seems to have become somewhat of a celebrity in the East Stand, as his Grandad was questioned about his absence in Iceland for the Breidablik game. Apparently he is Stevie Saunders mum's best pal now too.

He's gone one better than me though, and is playing with the Mini Well under 5's, showing signs of potential. At almost 4 years old, none other than SuperSub Stevie Kirk has praised him for his fearlessness and actual skills with a football, saying that if he sticks in he could be a great wee player.

When I was told this, I felt the biggest amount of pride and the biggest amount of jealousy I think I've ever had for someone. I should feel bad about that, but I don't.

I hope to pass my family's love of Motherwell FC on to my kids whenever they turn up. As a provincial club, it's important that families continue to go to games and support the club. The successful allure of our Glasgow neighbours may diminish local homegrown support and indeed players, but by introducing them to the rollercoaster of MFC early, maybe we can create and provide the fans with a team of Motherwell supporters. We can but dream...

Up The Well!!!