NOW FOR THE BIG ONE

It put the disappointment of defeat at the Scum Dome into perspective.

Leaving Hampden wearing an ever bigger grin than Michael Mols (somebody tells me I was not alone!), I turned to my friend The Prophet Of Doom and asked: "Would you swop this for three points last week?"

He hummed and hawed, muttering something about us maybe needing the three points come the end of the season. Not for the first time, he had missed the point entirely. We could afford to lose at Parkheid. Hampden was an entirely different scenario. Cup Finals are for winners and, passing a certain hostelry in Kilwinning on Sunday night, there wasn't too much doubt about who the winners were.

Yes, it was great...but it is yesterday's news now. It is time to mellow, to settle for a quiet smile instead of an ear to ear grin, and focus on the big one. The SPL Championship trophy MUST be brought back to its rightful home and, with the chance to open up a six point gap, it is time to pile the pressure on to the Mhanky Mhob.

Games in hand are nice things to have but no substitute for points in the bag. And their games in hand, away to Motherwell and Hearts, while clearly winnable, will be no walkovers. Unlike certain other teams in this Mickey Mouse league, Well and the Jambos will give good honest shifts and, with Sellick seeing the possibility of their season disappearing down the toilet, I quite fancy a slip-up in at least one of those games.

All very nice, of course, but maybe I'm allowing my head to drift a little. The bottom line about the title run-in is that Rangers are in the driving seat and the matter will be decided by what WE do. Assuming we win every game between now and the split (surely not too much to ask), Septic can't touch us and when they come to our place, presumably for the first game of the final quarter, they will be under a helluva lot of pressure.

There is nothing worse than going into an Old Firm game knowing you have to win, especially if playing away. God, don't we know, having made one or two trips to Breezeblock Boulevard under that self-same pressure.

Believe me, they will be feeling it now, and I've no doubt they are already digging out the old excuses. So Big Eck has to gather his men around him, stress the point that they are little more than a handful of games away from immortality. Every victory will cut Sellick's options. The old one-game-at-a-time maxim must be repeated over and over again at Auchenhowie, leaving the Other Mob to muse over what-ifs, maybe this and maybe that (nearly said maybes aye and maybes naw - tee-hee!), looking for favours elsewhere, while the Gers remain the masters of their own destiny.

Losing at Camberwick Green might not have been too much fun...but I don't think it has done us too much harm either. Having gone six games unbeaten against them, the law of averages was against us but, now that we've had our bad day at the office, we just need one more major effort to put them to sleep. They have used up a lot of luck to hang on to our coat-tails and, just when they need it most, they may well find they have no more left.

The big plus factor from the setback at the Piggery was the knowledge that we could do an awful lot better. They couldn't say that. They burst a gut to win that one and to chase the lost cause at Hampden. How much more do they have left in the tank? Methinks not a lot.

Much crap is spoken about football psychology. In truth, the result of the last game matters not a jot to the game's major players. Winners don't need a phychological advantage. Having a winning mentality is the only advantage you need. Those who suggested the Fraggle Rock result gave the Mhankies the edge obviously did not take the the Freckled One's powers of motivation into consideration.