INTERNATIONAL AFFAIRS: IN THE NEUTRAL ZONE

As a football fan, I will pretty much watch any game on telly, regardless of which teams are playing. That’s how you get a feel for how good and how poor different leagues, teams and players are in comparison to what your own team is. For me, it gives an opportunity to fantasize about who would be a good fit in claret and amber, or who wouldn’t, as well as giving rise to having “another team”.

At international level, I have to admit I am rather ambivalent. At the moment I am anyway. Obviously as a Scot, I am patriotic and always enjoy seeing the Tartan Army entertained by the national team. Under Levein though, I just don’t feel it. Last night’s win over Denmark was a good result, but it will only be worth something if it can be replicated in the games that matter. I’m in no way a gloom and doom merchant, but I’d be content with glorious failure to qualify for Euro 2012 as is the norm, but to do that, there needs to be some battling performances from Levein’s picks.

Instead of taking in the win at Hampden last night, my travels allowed me to experience a must win game for Northern Ireland as somewhat of a neutral. Friends and regular blog readers will know that I am marrying in to a Northern Irish family. When Big Rab told me he’d acquired tickets for their game against the Faroes in the week Elaine and myself were over, I knew I could get my fix of live football, albeit at the expense of missing a glorious win over Hearts and the impending defeat of St Mirren.

The drive from Larne to Belfast wasn’t too long, but the ever greying and darkening sky suggested that this muggy August night would also be a slippery one. After inhaling a magnificent Chicken Burger from the highly recommended Supreme takeaway, Robert, Steven and I made the short, wet walk to Windsor Park. For an international ground, Linfield’s stadium was very similar to those in the SPL. Temporary seating was in place behind one of the goals and also to the front of the Main south stand. Sat in the North stand, 2 rows back, it was clear that the grey sky was not going to be our friend for the night. As our seats were uncovered by the overhang of the top tier, a soaking would surely ensue.

Similar to Fir Park in size, Windsor too boasts an awful PA system. The tannoy guy made a valiant effort at naming the Faroese players, but was charged with a much tougher task of leading the crowd in a sing song. Printed on page 33 of the programme were alternative words to “We Didn’t Start The Fire”, which the announcer was pleading with the fans to burst out with as before the game and at half time. Whether it was out of embarrassment or in light of the English (Not UK) Riots, the fans were not having it. The song was played once and never again, with no one in our block singing along.

Instead, their voices were saved mainly for chants of “We’re not Brazil, We’re Northern Ireland” and “Greenandwhitearmy!”. The early lead Norn Iron took through Aaron Hughes, was all they could really sing about in the first half, although a couple of penalty decisions in their favour could have changed that, as could national hero Healy, if he hadn’t struck the post.

For a part time team, the Faroes didn’t lie down, and could have drawn level on a few occasions. Camp in goal for the home team almost let a corner slip in to his net just before half time, and shortly after, he breathed a sigh of relief when a clearance cannoned off a Faroese forward. Worthington’s men were starting to look edgy until the introduction of Niall McGinn.

In the lead up to the game, much had been said about the inclusion of Celtic players in the Northern Irish set up. Having a slight grasp of the political issues involved in the country, sectarian ignorance seems to be set aside in these instances. It’s true that both McGinn and Pat McCourt have received unpleasant post for their inclusion in Worthington’s squads, but when you have talented players in your ranks, it was proved last night that your background shouldn’t and doesn’t matter.

Within minutes of his introduction, McGinn had made a vital contribution. A long ball form the back sent him scurrying up the right wing. A look up and a pass to the onrushing Davis was all that was needed, as his first time side footer crashed in to the goal from all of 25 yards. It’s not often that I will be in attendance at a game and applaud a player that I would normally be vilifying, but in this instance, all I could do was get to my feet. Having seen Davis score a similar goal v the Well at Ibrox last season, I was now in a position to accept that he is a class act. In a Northern Ireland shirt anyway.

I didn’t expect I would have to do it again. Twice more in fact. For the first half, the enigma that is Paddy McCourt looked like uninterested. He and Johnny Evans on the left looked bereft of ideas, as more often than not, McCourt would pass and not move, or cut inside and stop. In the second half, he was a completely different player, almost epitomising the frustration that Celtic fans have with him.

His stats at Celtic show 10 goals in 30 appearances in 3 seasons. A goal every 3 games, and spectacular goals at that. Whether it’s his fitness (at times he looked to be blowing out his arse) or his attitude that finds him in and out of the squad, only Lennon knows. But his impact in the final 20 minutes of this game was unreal. His first goal for his country on his first start for his country came from a great piece of play. McGinn again strode up the wing, playing in Davis. A look left and a perfect pass picked out Paddy. He slalomed in to the box with ease, playing a neat 1-2 with Evans on the byline, before picking his spot at the far post. 3-0 and the Green and White Army burst in to life with various songs with McCourt’s name inserted.

A capacity crowd in Belfast, cheering a Celtic player to the roof. Who’d have thunk it? And who’d have thought they would do it again, but even louder? His second of the night, is honestly one of the best goals I have ever witnessed. Almost a carbon copy of the first, he dropped his shoulder and swivelled his hips all the way in to the box before chipping the goalie, like you can only do in FIFA, from about 10 yards. Magnificent.

The Derry Pele, Messi in disguise, whatever you want to call him, McCourt’s name is probably still echoing around Windsor Park this morning. If ever a gloss needed to be put on a 4-0 win, that was it. It could be argued that the result and performance wasn’t that impressive, given the quality of opposition, but a 4-0 win is a 4-0 win and gives a bit f spark before their next qualifiers against Serbia and Estonia. 2 points off second place with a game in hand, it’s up to the Ulstermen to make the most of it.

By the end of the match, the three of us were sodden, but delighted by the result and the quality of goals we had seen. Heading back to Larne in the dark, the aroma of our chippy still in the car, I had enjoyed being somewhat of a neutral. For once, I had sort of been supporting the same team as Robert and that team had won. A good night all round.

MOTHERWELL FC: PIES, PRESSROOMS AND PASSES

MOTHERWELL FC: PIES, PRESSROOMS AND PASSES.

So, week 2 of being a match day reporter for the glorious www.motherwellfc.co.uk found me taking a jaunt down to Kilmarnock. I'd only ever been to Rugby Park once before, as a teen to watch Scotland play Estonia.

My lasting memories of that day are the torrential rain, sitting in the steep, steep stand behind the goal, and a car knocking me off balance as I left the ground. I was hoping for some slightly more positive feedback on this occasion.

Another roasting Saturday for summer time football, I travelled with Twitter maestro Graham Barnstaple in his car-come-oven. We chatted about the impending game, last weeks performance, a bit about "minority sports" and other general football chit chat. Being the first time we'd properly had a chance to chat as part of the Well Media team, it was cool to see that any strangeness was put to the side over a common factor.

As we arrived at Rugby Park, the hotel across the road was a hive of activity. One side was full of kilted, tuxedoed and general wedding clothing, while the other was sunburt and wrapped in blue and White stripes. My immediate thought was that Elaine would kill me, if we had our wedding on a matchday at Fir Park!

We collected our Press Passes, where despite saying clearly on the card that Scottish Journalist ID was required, saying only our surnames sufficed. The press room at Killie is not dissimilar to that at Fir Park, the main difference being that there was someone manning the refreshments.

After a couple of cups of tea, the teamsheets were handed out. The big story for us Well reporters was thy Higdon was out and McHugh was in. The confidence we had in getting a result from a tight game dropped, as it meant that last week's picture perfect performance, couldn't be replicated. That's no disservice to Wee Bob, as he gave a decent account of himself on only his 4th SPL start.

It just meant that our gameplan which worked so well against Inverness was out the window. With no

Imposing target man to bring Humphrey and Murphy in to play, the passing on the deck had to be precise. Killie had been talking in the papers about how Kenny Shiels wants them playing like Barcelona. With two teams looking to pass the ball as much as possible, it was inevitable they would cancel one another out.

Without The Don, we weathered an early onslaught and should have done better from the number of corners we won. Hammell's deliveries were pretty much spot on, but only Heid Hutchinson came close. Kilmarnock look to have a decent winger in James Dayton. He and Hammell had a good battle on the left. Much like Jim O'Brien though, Dayton likes to go down if he's not getting past someone. It worked when JOB did it for us and I'm not complaining, but (and I hate to quote Rio Ferdinand) Stay On Your Feet!

Nicky Law was once again the instigator of most of our attacking play. He loves to jink in and around the box to play others in and set up Murphy and Humphrey for some decent efforts. Indeed, the best chance of the match fell to him, but a good block from Kroca denied him either a goal or an assist for McHugh.

In the past few seasons, we have been blessed with some top notch keepers in Ruddy and Randolph. Kilmarnock can say the same about Cammy Bell. Although there's not a lot of competition, I'd say apart from McGregor, he's the best Scottish keeper around at the minute.

His saves from McHugh and Jennings clarified that for me. I'm really surprised that Celtic haven't gambled on him in their hunt for a goalie. I'd imagine even Aberdeen, with their good old glory days and even older management, could have put up a decent bid as a replacement for Clangers Langfield due to his illness. Anyway, Cammy Bell, top keeper.

Randolph, in the middle of our goal, was no spectator in this game, making a number of comfortable, but still very vital saves. A low drive from Dayton which he got down sharply to was probably the pick of the bunch.

The game finished 0-0, in what I described at the time as "the most anodyne end to end match I'd ever seen". It wasn't as pleasant as the previous week, but was more pleasant than the hefty thump Hutchinson's cherries took from blocking a Silva daisy cutter. According to his tweets, he's still trying to get them back!

Two mini Killie Pies to the good, I travelled home happy that another point and another clean sheet had kept us top of the league for the second week in a row. I never look forward to games versus Hearts, but with all that's gone on down Gorgie this week, it's added a little spice to the fixture. Their 4-1 win over Paksi in Paulo Sergio's 1st game may be an indication of things to come, or it could well be their Flamutari.

No doubt it will be an interesting game and will be one I miss as I am Northern Ireland bound for the week. Im also missing the St Mirren game, where no doubt Higdon will return to haunt his former employers. It's not often we have players who do that, more that former Well players come back and bite us. Townsley, Delomeaux, McDonald, McCulloch and no doubt Sutton this Sunday. In fact scratch Sutton, the game's not on telly so he won't do the damage.

I'd be happy with 4 points from these 2 games and possibly a striker coming in while I'm away. With Higdon carrying a knock and Murphy possibly on his way at some point, we need someone as a plan b.

Anyways, cheers for reading, and next week you'll have my thoughts on Northern Ireland v Faroe Isles!

Up The Well!!

Hanging Up The Sambas: Official Retirement Blog

Hanging Up The Sambas.

DISCLAIMER: This is not and should not be viewed as a pity blog. While at times it may be self depricating, I am not looking for sympathy or anything, it is just a collection of ideas and facts that have lead to my decision.

After much deliberation, I have decided to retire from Tuesday Night 7s. This is not a decision I have taken lightly, but I feel it is the right one. It will allow me to focus on my burgeoning media career and allow me to enjoy consuming football in a much more beneficial fashion.

My reasons for this are varied, but mainly come down to my own thoughts and feelings. I've been playing regularly with the same group of guys for the past 3-4 months. Most of them pals, some of them acquaintances, others I only know from the Racecourse on a Tuesday night.

Most of these lads play 4 or 5 nights a week, some of them at at Junior level, some of them play in pub teams. Me? I play once a week. And it shows.

When I first started playing, it was all about getting the fitness up. By no means will I be showing up on Embarassing Fat Bodies, but I'm uncomfortably teetering between the 13 1/2 and 14 stone scale at the moment.

So fitness was key in my decision to take football back up. To an extent, my ability to run about for an hour and a half has improved, which I am pleased with. But, running about with guys who are a few stone lighter and can run all night, makes playing the game difficult. I've found myself in the last few weeks ploughing the Emile Heskey furrow, just running in to space. I was ironically calling it the John Sutton roll for a while, until he moved to Hearts, where it now seems he is playing the Kris Jack role.

About a month or so ago, I stopped wearing my flashy looking Puma boots and reverted back to my 10 year old adidas Sambas. The ground was too dry for blades and the Sambas had always been stalwarts back in my youth. I thought by wearing them again, I would get my powers back and be able to make a decent if insignificant contribution to the games.

The 16 year old KJ was never the greatest player but he was speedy enough with the ball at his feet, fairly good in the air, could go past a man and could shoot from distance. The 26 year old version of me, no matter how much I try, has none of that.

This has been none more evident in the last few weeks. My touch has completely gone. I'm too slow. My tackling is appalling. I'm dragging shots wide from less than 6 yards. I'm getting beaten to headers by guys shorter than me. What makes all of this worse is that I really am trying to make tackles, win headers, score goals. I've just lost the ability to do it.

As I said before, my fitness has improved, but to be of any value in these games, I need to be playing as often as my comrades. I could choose to do this, but I have more important things to occupy my nights with these days. Until recently, I have felt up for my Tuesday night games, looked forward to them as my 1 night of proper exertion a week. Now I feel it is time to stop.

This is no discredit to the guys I play with, some of them are a genuine talent, which forces them to take the game fairly seriously. When folk start shouting about "not keeping the shape"and getting angry at losing silly goals it suggests that a little bit of the fun is being sapped out the game. The guys I play with may disagree with that, as despite it being an inclusive fun game, it's is a competitive sport and winning is the aim. I just wanted a kickabout with my mates.

It was the same with the band. What started out as being fun and lively, became turgid and repetitive and the enjoyment was lost. In my opinion, our 4 year stint went 3 years too long, peaking when our single came out and troughing almost immediately after, as we couldn't muster up anything as good as our first year. Again, that may have been through my closed mindedness to a degree, but bottom line is the enjoyment ran out and it began to feel like a chore.

So now does Tuesday Night 7s. I play to make up the numbers and despite all the running in to space and occasional tap ins I score, it's not enough to carry on.

Instead, I'll stick to what I know I'm good at, as opposed to trying to be good at something I used to do to a decent standard. In the last few years I've been guilty of trying to have my fingers in as many pies as I can, and have come up short in a lot of them. I'm 26 now and it's probably time I Focussed on what I can do and not what I think I can.

So for those reasons, I hereby officially retire from Tuesday Night 7s. I am hanging up my Sambas.

MOTHERWELL FC: KEEPING MY COMPOSURE IN THE BOX

Saturday 23rd July, 2pm. Im in the Phil O'Donnell stand for the first ever time on a match day. Stood looking up at the plush cushioned Season Ticket and Exec seats, a few markers are strewn about on the park behind me.

As I ascend the stairs, I see the hub of activity that is the media section. To the left, headphones, microphones and sound equipment are sprawled over 2 pulpit like benches. To the right, laptops and mobiles are displayed like territorial markings. On my approach, I eye a spot under a speaker to the right. This will be my seat for the season. This will be my first destination on the journey to the broadcast teams on the left. (Now on my right as I've sat down).

The tight claret bench gives little room for manoeuvre as I plant my laptop, charger, phone, notepad and £10 pen atop it. I sit back and take a breath. I'm maybe a little late to the party, as now 26, I begin to fear that sports journalism is a young mans game. But like the team I love, youth and experience can work together perfectly.

As I scan the newly adorned Cash Converters emblazoned East Stand, I think back to my first trip to Fir Park in November 1994. I sat in awe as I took in the sights, sounds and smells of a narrow 1-0 defeat to Aberdeen, thanks to a McCart own goal. 17 years on and it's like I'm watching the game with new eyes.

While always a fan, I now have an official capacity to uphold, that I can't allow the die hard in me to rule too much. Keeping my composure in the press box this season will be key, but as a fan of football, it would be amiss of me to not celebrate the finer points of the beautiful game.

To have been back East as Stevie Hammell rifled the ball in off Esson's face, for example would have been a moment to savour with my usual cohorts. Last time I witnessed a Hammell goal, I broke a phone and had my glasses punched off my face in delight. This time, a fervent clap and a muted shout of "Get In!" sufficed. My press colleagues used their hands to show appreciation as everyone looked to Graham Barnstaple for relevant stats .

Archie MacPherson sat 2 seats away from me. A chap who I assume works for some high brow paper (tweedy suit jacket, White open collared shirt) divided us , preventing me from "networking"'with the legendary commentator. No doubt over the course of the season I'll learn names but, "tweedy", "tall chap" and "iPad guy" were the only folk I conversed with besides @MotherwellFC's Mr Barnstaple.

The same stifled exclamations were uttered as Murphy scored 'Well's second. As half time rolled around, pundits became fans. The formalities of sitting in the box were dispensed with over the free pies and beverages on offer in the press room. The school room feel of the media enclosure was countered by the playground banter as we all huddled around the refreshment table, discussing the first half. Had someone brought out a pack of Panini stickers, I would not have been surprised, such was the boyhood charm of these professional, grown men discussing the fitba.

Come Lasley's "Rip Snorter" (copyright Cammy Murray), I couldn't help but give a Yell.Reminiscent of old Archie's "Only An Excuse" caricature, I let out a "WOOOOFFFFTTTT!" and a slightly Neddier "YASSSSSS!".

It was reminiscent of sitting in the Govan Stand at Ibrox when Blackman put us 1-0 up v Rangers last year, trying to hold back and let rip at the same time. No one really noticed though, as despite me being the only one on my feet, everyone else agreed it was a quality strike.

I regained my composure and went about compiling my report after the final whistle. As I descended the stand alone, watching the East Stand empty made me wish I could discuss the game with my mates and have the usual Saturday banter.

At the same time, I was proud of what I had just accomplished. Playing for the Well was a fantastical idea as a youngster, but writing about them in an official capacity was a dream I could hold on to. It may have taken a while, but I've made it happen. Sure I may be getting paid in pies and experience, but that's just for now. Give it some time and I'll be sitting in the broadcast box.

A trip to the Ayrshire coast to write up our game v Kilmarnock beckons next week. A Killie Pie, 3 points and another week at the top of the league will do me just fine.

Up The Well!

Stephen Craigan: Mr Motherwell

Stalwart. Mainstay. Bedrock. Foundation. Lynchpin. All words used to describe the fundamental piece that holds everything together. In footballing context, those words are used for experienced veterans and inspirational gutbusters, who battle on for the greater good while others around may fall.

Tonight at Fir Park, the career of Motherwell's diehard captain Stephen Craigan, will be celebrated in his testimonial game. Former club Partick Thistle are the opponents, and their short dash along the M8 should hopefully find a decent crowd joining in on thanking Craggs for his service to both clubs.

His early career at Well found Stephen as more of an auxiliary defender, behind the likes of Brian Martin, Chris McCart , Greg Denholm, Greg Strong, and even Tony Vaughan. His 22 appearance in the mid to late 90s, at what was very much a transitional time for the club, were scattered around, thus leading to his move to The Jags in 2000.

121 appearances with 1 goal to his credit, Craggs became a solid starter in Maryhill, while managing to break through in to the Northern Ireland squad. A fan favourite, Jags supporters were heavy hearted when he left them to rejoin Motherwell at the behest of Terry Butcher.

With a wealth of experience under his belt, Craigan's return to Fir Park found him as first name on the team sheet every week under Butcher. His steady head in the core of the team, alongside other veterans Scott Leitch, Gordon Marshall and Jim Hamilton found him playing in one of the most enjoyable seasons Motherwell fans had had in a long time.

While it was not a stellar season for league positioning, the League Cup run of 2004-2005, with the dramatic highs of the Semi at Easter Road, the trip to Hampden for the final and Skippy Sunday, Craigan took part in some of the most memorable matches in modern Motherwell history.

The Malpas era came and went before Craigan started showing signs of how important he has become for the club. Mark McGhee's first season in charge found The Well at their attacking best, and while praise was heaped on Clarkson, Porter and McCormack, without the inspiration of Craigan, Leitch and O'Donnell's experience to support them, Europe would have been a pipe dream.

That season, O'Donnell died, forging the bond between this group of players. Old heads were needed to console the young blood and Craigan played his part expertly in his dealings with the fans and the media. He was now becoming Mr Motherwell both on and off the park, with his media work augmenting his defensive duties.

After McGhee and Leitch left, Stephen was put in temporary charge of the team while a full time manager was sought. Jim Gannon's arrival heralded what many of us thought would be the end of Craigan's time with us, as his youth Focussed movement saw a perennial starter resigned to the bench. Gannon's tenure was not long and when Brown and Knox came in, Craggs came back, more determined than ever to prove Gannon was wrong. Since then, Craigan's captaincy has never been in doubt.

Last season epitomised his time at the Well. For all the great times and defining moments of the 2010-2011 season, there was one heartbreaking moment that brought us all back to reality. Our Scottish Cup run was exemplified by the desire of the crop of players involved to win, no time moreso than in the Semi.

Craigan was colossal. From first to final whistle, St Johnstone didn't get a sniff. It may not have been the Hampden roar, but the noise in our section as Our Captain scored the opener, was not normal. As a collective we knew that this was the most important goal of the season and possibly Craigan's career. His celebration immediately after the goal and at the final whistle had many in Claret and Amber welling up. That was how much it meant, that was a captains performance, that was history being made.

His own goal in the final may have played a part in us not winning the cup, but that's not important. What is important is that we celebrate what he has given the club. Not everyone is a Craigan fan, but his commitment to this wee club we call our own has been nothing short of fantastic. He has the club at heart, he knows how much Motherwell FC is loved by it's fans, and with every grimace and thump of his chest, he shows his love for us, the club and the game.

Sometimes he gives us heart in mouth moments.His handball that wasn't a handball in the final. His regular mistiming of clearing longballs where the ball bounces under his foot. His occasional forays over the halfway line. The feeling of when a ball is pinging around in our box that he's going to touch it over the line.

Indeed, his own goal scoring feats are partly what has given him cult status amongst Well fans. While not being able to get a proper stat on it, the 5 goals he has scored in his time at Fir Park versus ones he's put through his own net, surely finds him on negative strikes.

Other times he is sublime. Keeping Rooney in his back pocket for Northern Ireland v England. Captaining NI and becoming our most capped player.Scoring v Killie via throw in after opening the East Stand gate, then being told not to do it again by the ref. Ripping it right out of Jim Gannon on Soccer AM.

Whether heart in mouth or heart on sleeve, Stephen Craigan is the captain we have needed for the last few years. When he takes to the bowling green turf this evening to savour the adulation of us in attendance, the appreciation should be evident for all to see. Whether he plays a half for both teams is irrelevant, what matters is that he has a great night being applauded for what he has done for both in his career. Any own goals should be scored in the Thistle tops though.

Stephen Craigan, I Salute You!

MOTHERWELL FC: UN-#BELIEVE-ABLE

MOTHERWELL FC: UN- #BELIEVE- ABLE

This weekend was always going to be a special one. As I write this installment, I am on the train to work, before flying out to Canada tomorrow. Excitement levels are reaching fever pitch so over the weekend, much focus was on making sure everything was packed and ready to go.

It was also my cousin Barrie's 30th birthday party on Saturday night, followed by a pub Sunday where he had a midget ( that's the PC term, I checked) dressed as a policeman, handcuffed to him for a pub crawl. Again, events which had some high points.

If that kind of thing wasn't enough, THE MIGHTY WELL STROLLED TO THEIR FIRST SCOTTISH CUP FINAL IN 20 YEARS!!!!!!!!

Sorry for the caps there, but for the 90 minutes where Murphy and co decimated St Johnstone, I was speaking in upper case, so much so that my job that involves talking on a phone all day may suffer a little. I'd imagine the 7500 other Claret and Amber revellers feel the same today as they go back to work.

Hampden on Saturday was one of those days that we don't often get as Motherwell fans. A day when we don't necessarily hit top form, but come away with a comfortable win and be in complete control of the game.

For the first 3 minutes it didn't look that way though. Saints came out the traps quickly and forced a great save for the cameras from pop star botherer Randolph, in the middle of our goal. It looked like it may be a long afternoon. This would have been made even more unbearable had the chap behind me kept making jokes about how the defence would find it hard to mark Danny Invincible, as they couldn't see him, because, y'know he's "invincible". He made the joke about 5 times in the game, not one of his friends pulling him up for it. To be fair though, "Invisible" would have been a better name as he did not much of note.

Jamie Murphy had tweeted before the game for us to #believe and his self belief certainly was evident. His first probing run led to Jeffers getting a corner from another avid Twit, Michael Duberry. From Hateley's corner, Enckelman flapped and waved goodbye to his teams chances as Stephen "Jim Gannon" Craigan bulleted his first goal in 5 years in to the empty net. Soccer AM's Crossbar Challenge and subsequent dig at Gannon, must have added to his fire to win the game, as he played one of the most assured matches of his career in one of the most important in claret and Amber.

The joy he felt as it hit the net was increased 7000-fold as we all piled on top of one another, hugging and shouting. Craggs was doing the same, screaming what looked like a worse tirade than Rooney did, but not in to a camera, like the man who spent 90 minute in Craigan's pocket did.

1-0 after 5 mins and we were buzzing. One Stephen Craigan echoed around the cavernous National stadium, drowning out the sound of of 3000 tractor keys being looked out of blue and White pockets. A little under 10 minutes later and we had our hands tickling the Cup's handles. Murphy picked the ball up around 40 yards out, slalomed through a hapless string of men in blue, reached the edge of the box and beat Enckelman with ease.

Rob McLean asked Stuart McCall if Murphy's performance was a "double edged sword" on Sportscene, as he may have played his way out of Fir Park. If we win the Cup, and Murphy plays like that against Celtic on May 21st, he will deserve the kind of move that he deserves. If Connor Sammon can make it in the EPL, Jamie Murphy can do it too.

He was a constant threat and could have scored another mazy solo goal just after Lasley should have put us 3-0 to the good. Instead, that honour was left to John Sutton. The man couldn't not score on Saturday. It was a Cup game, live on telly, the ideal components for a Sutton goal. The only doubt would be if he'd score a header or a tap in or react to some horrific Mulgrew-esque mistake. None of the above.

His touch to Franny was returned with interest and his looping volley from 35 yards, despite Enckelman doing his best Darren Randolph impression, slammed in to the top pokey and nestled in the net. Time stood still as the spinning Mitre left Sutty's boot. It felt like I was watching the half time replay things on FIFA. I took an age to go in, but meant I could savour every second of it.

It had Motherwell written all over it. It was like a mixture of Colin O'Neill's v Celtic in the 91 semi and Faddy's stupendous strike to beat France. It showed that Motherwell have the quality to compete on the big stage when needed and are capable of the spectacular . These are the things needed to win the coveted Cup, 20 years since we did last.

The Omens are there. A scorer in every round (Kirk and Sutton), One game went to a replay ( Morton and Dundee United), we put out the holders ( Aberdeen and United), the 3rd goal in the semi was from 35 yards ( O'Neill and Sutton), Northern Irish internationalist scored in semi ( O'Neill and Craigan), the year ends in a 1 and it's a Tory Government. These may just be coincidences but if we #believe like Murph, who's to say it won't happen?

As I enjoy my future sister in laws wedding this weekend, just outside Toronto, I'll be keeping an ear out for the Well score. McCall has carte Blanche for the rest of the season to put out whatever team he wishes. Top Six is in the bag, but with the cup final in the back of everyone's mind, he may wish to experiment with the youngsters or give the likes of McHugh and Casagolda a run in the team

to see how they fare. Only Stu Mac knows.

The man has gone from the shakiest of starts, to becoming a Motherwell legend in 5 months. Granted, the players at his disposal are those mainly of McGhee. Gannon and Brown, but he has them playing his way. It may not be McCalls squad, but they are most definitely his men.

YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!

Up The Well!!!

MOTHERWELL FC: INTERNATIONAL AFFAIRS

The Mighty Well have the weekend off as Craig Levein's Tartan Army take on Brazil in London. While the rest of the home nations are in Euro 2012 qualifying action, Scotland are being set up to be scudded Samba style in a country that already ridicules us and now has an outlet to relay that to the rest of the UK.

News that Brazillian playmaker Pato is set to out led Levein to bring in his trump card. Craig Mckail-Smith. Not David Goodwillie. Not Scotland's top Scottish scorer in the SPL, David Goodwillie. Not the scorer of goal of the season for his Wayne Rooney-esque bicycle kick against Motherwell, David Goodwillie.

What's that? Dundee United have an important Cup replay on Wednesday nightagainst Motherwell? They've been playing loads of games because their park is in worse nick than Fir Park. Who did Levein formerly manage? Ah, now I get it...

Of course I'm being facetious, and ironically playing the Paranoia card. I'm sure Craig Levein has his reasons for picking Peterborough's cod Scotsman over any other Scottish striker. We should be thankful he is picking strikers at all.

The whole Scottish by association thing really riles me. If the homegrown game is to be improved, then surely that should begin by showing that home grown players are capable of filling in when Rangers players... Oops, ANY players pull out of squads.

Instead, the trend is to find anyone sounding remotely Scottish at the last minute to earn an honorary cap or 2. Apparently the real reason that the Lockerbie bomber was sent back to Libya, wasn't due to illness, but because being called Al Megrahi was putting him in contention to partner Gary Caldwell at the back.

Under Levein, I am not too fussed about Scotland games. I've never liked his managerial approach and the Czech game with no strikers really irked me. It's testament to his methods that the best Scotland performance under him was a typically Scottish "glorious defeat" to Spain. Every Scotland boss gets one.

The Scotland squads under Walter Smith and Alex McLeish instilled me with much more confidence and pride in my country. There was more of a core of a team with these squads. I'll take in to account that times change and those players are mostly injury ravaged or getting on a bit. There's just nothing about Levein's choices that make me think we could cause an upset like beating France twice. Instead we are relieved at getting last minute winners against "minnows".

I can have no complaints at a lack of Claret and Amber selections for the squad, as we don't have anyone at international calibre. Reynolds has been the only one realistically on contention this season, but he seems to have gone off the radar now that he's Sheffield Wednesday. The grass may not always greener in the English leagues but the pay packets certainly will be.

From what I've read this morning, Stephen Craigan has been dropped for Northern Ireland's game tonight. I don't know which way to take this. It could be good in the sense that it keeps him fit for the replay next week, or it could affect his confidence going in to that game. Does it really matter either way? The whole defence's scattergun season shows no sign of letting up, so regardless of the impact of Crags being dropped, it's impossible to predict the outcome.

More of a worry will be getting Darren Randolph back from Republic of Ireland duty in time. A cup quarter final is no time to be chucking in a back up goalie, particularly when Randolph has been the only thing preventing gubbings in the last 2 games.

He was a bit shaky on Saturday, but so were everyone else. Stuart McCall used the word 'capitulate' in his post match chats. That about sums it up. For the first 20 minutes, we had the beating of Killie. Humphrey was roasting Clancy, John Sutton had obviously read my blog from last week by getting 1 then hitting the post. Had his glancing header gone in, we could well have got more. Instead, we chucked it.

Humph stopped playing, and the defence chucked in 3 goals. The penalty was harsh, but to be honest, Jennings should have walked long before it for his 2 footed breenge. Peaks and troughs, eh?

Once this Scotland game is out the way, it's back to FP on Wenesday night, for what could be the step we need to end 20 trophyless years or the kick up the bahookie to salvage a top six spot for the season. A semi v St Johnstone would give us a great crack at the final, but a defeat on Wednesday could effectively end our season.

Next weeks blog will echo one of those 2 sentiments.

Up The Well and Come On Scotland! (I am still supporting them despite my views...)