The practiced tone of upbeat, football-manager-speak noticably fell away as the likeable McGlynn responded: “Now that’s a different story, now we’re talking about something completely different. Raith Rovers Football Club are now in a really bad situation.”

Rarely do you hear such undisguised pessimism in the rhetoric of football, but there was worse to come.

McGlynn explained his negativity by stating that the loss of local rivals Dunfermline from the First Division – and the inevitable arrival of the poorly supported Hamilton from the SPL – means a major loss of revenue, and a subsequent cutback in the club’s budget for players.

Gazing into the void, McGlynn continued: “I’m afraid that eh… promotion…”

There followed a pitiful “huh” that dismissed that notion as fantasy, before he added, matter-of-factly: ”If we’ve done what we’ve done this season and we have to cut then you’d have to think that next season is going to be a difficult season.”

McGlynn’s dose of realism came after Raith slumped to a last-minute defeat at home to Queen of the South, in the same moment that Dunfermline fans were staging a pitch invasion after their team’s victory over Morton sealed the title. In truth, the business was concluded a week earlier at East End Park, a painful loss which finally killed off Raith’s gallant promotion push.

Undoubtedly, it’s been a remarkable season for Rovers, in which John McGlynn has taken a very ordinary group of players and a very small squad to the very brink of the SPL. It hasn’t all been plain sailing, especially in the 19 games since the victorious New Year’s derby (won 8, drawn 4, lost 7) – and the falling away of Falkirk and Dundee have undoubtedly helped our cause.

Dunfermline only came charging back in the final months after buying three quality players in the January transfer window, and while you can’t take away from their triumph, as a Raith fan the sense of gloom is only hardened by the realisation that this was our best chance to get back up, and perhaps the only chance we’ll have for the foreseeable future.

McGlynn’s efforts have not gone unnoticed. Scotland boss Craig Levein has already sung his praises, and tonight he was named manager of the year by his peers at the PFA Scotland awards. The big question is whether he chooses to cash in his chips and take the SPL or English job he deserves, or see out his contract at Stark’s Park. I’m sure most Raith fans would wish him well if he does choose to move on this summer, as the suspicion is that he has taken the club as far as he can.

Speculation aside, what hope can Raith fans cling to for next season, after such a brutal assessment from our own manager?

Well, we’ll have to readjust our ambitions in the short term. A mid-table finish, or anything above a relegation scrap, is surely going to be the target. We have a core group of dependable, professional players, a first class manager (at the time of writing) and a strong fanbase that has been galvanised by the thrill of the chase this season, myself included.

The aim for next season has to be security; to make sure that we avoid a bounce factor that could send the club hurtling back to the dark days of Second Division football.

Football fans are notoriously short-sighted. And, miracles aside, promotion next season is not on the cards.

But the following campaign, or the one that after that, who knows?

When he joined Raith in November 2006, McGlynn had a five-year plan to get the club from the third tier of Scottish football back to the first. He’s worked wonders, but perhaps it’s time to draw up the next five-year plan.

Although he didn’t kick a ball, Coyle seemed energetic and upbeat, joining the players on the pitch with his family and waving to fans after the trophy presentation.

So I, like Raith Rovers fans everywhere, was shocked and extremely saddened to hear about his death a week ago, at the age of just 46.

Even more than his involvement in some of Rovers’ most celebrated matches (and I won’t mention what happened in Munich), I believe it was Ronnie Coyle’s warm, humble, self-effacing outlook that so endeared him to fans and players alike.

The Raith Rovers website has posted this tribute to Coyle, which features an interview filmed on his big day just three weeks ago, in which he reaffirms his love of the club and gratitude for all the support.

There’s been a lot of hype about the crucial Fife derby this Saturday, which could effectively decide the destination of the First Division title.

Like every other Raith fan, I’ve been letting myself get a bit carried away with the talk of sell-out crowds, local rivalries and promotion prospects.

But at full-time, no matter the result, I’m going to try to take a moment to remember that it’s just a game.

Football’s not more important than life and death, despite the saying.

A day to remember in Kirkcaldy

“… And he doesn’t!

“Celtic have won the Coca-Cola Cup!”

Doesn’t really have the same ring to it does it?

But even the staunchest Raith supporter would not begrudge Paul McStay his penalty spot revenge over Scott Thomson in the Ronnie Coyle benefit match at Stark’s Park today that featured some of the players from the famous Coca-Cola Cup final of 1994 and an array of other fan favourites.

The former Celtic captain flew over 10,000 miles from Australia to show his support for his old mucker Coyle, a family man who is battling leukemia at the age of 46. And McStay made sure his penalty, in a shoot-out that followed a 3-3 draw, found the net this time round.

It was this kind of good-natured camaraderie, between fans (all 2729 of them) and ex-players on both teams, which made the occasion one to remember.

So often testimonial matches are paint-dryingly boring affairs, with tubby middle-aged men huffing and puffing and prodding away pre-arranged goals and faded superstars smugly soaking up the adulation.

While this game was hardly a footballing spectacle, it was quite refreshing to go to a match that wasn’t a win-at-all-costs, bile-strewn slugfest.

Today was about the human stories behind the game, about the great personalities and unbelievable glory days that have graced the Kirkcaldy club, and ultimately it was about showing respect and empathy for a loyal servant to the Rovers and a thoroughly decent man.

Some people say that benefit matches are meaningless fundraisers, but this was so much more. It was an example of how football, a game so often taken far too seriously at the top level, can actually make a real difference to people’s lives.

And since we’re on the subject of 27th November 1994, any excuse…

David (Weir) versus Goliath: Scotland line up against Spain

Watching football from the stands or from the sofa – there are, of course, some fundamental differences. While your average SkySports-subscribing Joe will get a better overview of the match complete with instant replays and ‘expert commentary’, there are still aspects of going to the game that collectively outweigh any flashy TV wizardry.

Last night I found myself sitting in a ringside seat for Scotland’s latest glorious failure against current European and World champions Spain. So why put up with £35 for a ticket and the almighty hassle of getting there and back? Well, here are my reasons…

1. Spain are a supremely impressive footballing force (as if you didn’t know). They may lack the momentary explosions of skill we see from the South Americans, but as a unit they’re currently untouchable. It’s not just all the ticcy-taccy passing movements, it’s also their no-nonsense, winning mentality. Even when Scotland got back to 2-2, you just knew the Spaniards wouldn’t settle for a draw against such modest competition – no matter how much we hoped that that was the end of it. Sure enough, they didn’t. For anyone accustomed to lower league Scottish football like me, watching Spain at their best was like going from cave paintings to Picasso in one step.

2. The atmosphere. Actually, I was surprised by how subdued Hampden was for large chunks of the match. It was as if everyone was acutely aware of the gulf in class and constantly wary of where the next Spain goal might come from. But when the opportunities did arise, the Hampden Roar really was electric.

3. Seeing Andres Iniesta weave his magic, like, right over there. We had seats in the South Stand down near the pitch, and during the first half the world’s best midfielder was coming across to the left flank at every opportunity to torment the Scottish backline. The little fella who scored the winner in the World Cup final is typical of this current crop of Spanish footballers: ruthlessly efficient in possession and innately aware of the bigger picture as he attacks. Both he and Xabi Alonso in midfield were chief string-pullers on the night; David Villa showed glimpses of why he was the star of South Africa, but, somehow, Davie Weir kept him quiet. And the absence of Xavi and Fernando Torres was rarely felt.

4. The post-match pint round the corner from the stadium during which an anonymous Weegie explains what’s wrong with the current Scotland set-up, right down to the deficiencies of the youth scouting system (which probably stems from some personal feelings of injustice). That’s right, you don’t get that at home.

Tom English has written a column for The Scotsman that pretty much sums up the sorry standard – and has become something of a viral web hit, judging by the traffic its getting – but here are a few dishonourable mentions for my part:

Edgar Davids: Eh?dgar Drivel. The words are there, but add them together and it’s just. not. English.

Alan Shearer: Mr Potato Head. Someone should record his ‘expert analysis’ as a sleeping aid.

Andy Townsend: Andy-Christ. Deeply, deeply disagreeable “Irish” Cockney. The day he completes a sentence without a cliché or the words “I tell you what” is the day hell freezes over.

Clive Tyldesley: Snide Bilgely. It’s written in his contract that everything he says must be translated for the Ingerlanders, even if it’s comparing the male pattern baldness of the Slovakia striker with “Rooooooooney”.

Clarence Seedorf: Call Clarence. And dictate the teamsheet to him. At least his ignorance also extends to England, when he called Gareth Barry ‘whatsisname’.

Robbie Earle: The Earl of Compchester. Alas, we were denied Earle’s blatherings when 36 of his complimentary tickets ended up in the hands of a gaggle of blonde PR girls from a beer company. Gaffes don’t really get any more gaffey than that.

Adrian Chiles: Voodoo Chile (Porky Return). ITV producers, please tell Chiles he’s not a comedian.

There were also BBC/ITV gravy train tickets for the likes of Harry “Brown Envelope” Redknapp, Chris “32 caps for Wales” Coleman, Lee “Traders Need Access To” Dixon and Emmanuel Adebayor, who almost answered a phone call live in the studio.

Very few have impressed. Only Jurgen Klinnsman, Roy Hodgson and Jim Beglin haven’t embarrassed themselves.

For anything approaching insightful commentary (and when I say ‘insightful’, I mean expressing an original opinion and/or providing some insider context), I’ve had to turn to newspapers and Twitter (if you follow anyone make it Italian journalist Gabriele Marcotti (@marcotti).

The only saving grace for TV at World Cup 2010 is that Ian Wright’s stuck in ‘Studio Five’.

And the moral of the story? Just because you’ve played football, it doesn’t mean you’re best equipped to talk about it.

* ‘Pundit mince’ is one of my dad’s catchphrases, used traditionally to undermime Hansen & co.

Rovers' day in the sun at Hampden

So near and yet so far… I wrote a quick reaction piece on Raith Rovers’ Scottish Cup semi-final defeat to Dundee United for scotsman.com.

Sometimes it’s hard to be a Rover, as Tammy Wynette might have sung if she had experienced lower league Scottish football. And that’s just getting to the game. Unless you’re a member of the Tartan Army or one of the die-hards who made the trips to Mount Florida for away games against Queen’s Park, it’s a challenge to even locate Hampden Park.

Thanks to a combination of smartphone, road atlas and guesswork, we get to the national stadium an hour before kick-off – ample time to mull over Raith’s prospects. Ross County’s stunning win over Celtic the previous afternoon looms large on everyone’s minds. Can we follow in their footsteps with another SPL scalp? Despite ourselves, we can’t help thinking that if we win today we’ll never have a better chance of lifting the Scottish Cup. Looking back, maybe that kind of thinking was our undoing from the start.

Hampden may be less than half-full but it’s a hell of a sight: on the warmest day of the year so far, blazing sunshine streams down on a sea of tangerine and blue – this match should really have been sponsored by a certain fizzy drink. All around Rovers fans greet each other, exchange the usual Starks Park banter and soak up the sense of once-in-a-generation occasion.

But as seats fill and the minutes tick away, the feeling of jubilation takes on a nervous twang. This is it. Weeks of build-up and hype lead to the next 90 minutes, in which our fate will be decided, for better or worse.

And for the first 27 minutes at least, it feels like this could be it. We have plenty of opportunities to sing and shout as our team comes flying out the blocks, pegging United back into their own half and creating four corners in a row. Gregory Tade, hero at Pittodrie two rounds ago, looks his usual gangly but unpredictable self on the right flank, and the SPL high-fliers appear bereft of ideas.

As all football fans know, however, all the possession in the world means diddly squat without a goal. And as if to state their credentials as the form team in Scotland, United hit us with a sucker punch with their first clear chance – former Raith loan star David Goodwillie latching on to a clinical through pass to calmly slot home the opener.

This was not in the script, and the Raith players don’t know how to react. For the remainder of the match we never really trouble United, who double their lead through a fine Andy Webster header just before the hour mark.

As the game wears on the atmosphere in our part of the North Stand grows increasingly deflated, resigned to watching the team in tangerine close down the match, while their fans party as if they’ve already won the cup. Even the tattooed, topless lads in the row in front of us only get off their seats to make certain hand gestures at the gloating United contingent away to our right.

In the end the game was surprisingly lacking in drama or suspense for a cup semi-final. Raith manager John McGlynn will feel let down by the lack of character and abundance of nerves shown on the day by some of his charge, but rightfully proud of the incredible feat of getting this far.

After the final whistle has blown to seal our gloom, the roads out of Glasgow are clogged with cars flying tangerine scarves and flags. With nothing but a long journey home and a relegation battle to look forward to, it’s worth repeating: sometimes it’s hard to be a Rover. But we wouldn’t have it any other way.

Gregory Tade celebrates the winning goal

Last night Raith Rovers beat Aberdeen 1-0 in the replay of their Scottish Cup fifth round tie.

For anyone unfamiliar with the context or the sport, there’s nothing remarkable about this fact.

But it was remarkable when you consider these facts:

In the original game, Aberdeen bundled in an equaliser in the fifth minute of stoppage time, to the bafflement of many onlookers who couldn’t see where five minutes of added time had come from. It was a tough blow for Raith Rovers to take, and so often it’s in ties like this where the bigger club (Aberdeen) stroll through the replay.

Before and after the first game, Dons manager Mark McGhee’s comments to the media implied that his team had some divine right to just turn up and the result would go their way. Before the first match McGhee said on the radio that Aberdeen had the better players and it was just a case of putting in the performance, and after the 1-1 draw, he said:

“I couldn’t believe we were losing, it was such an injustice. I couldn’t believe we were on the verge of going out, there was something very wrong … We are going back to Pittodrie now and we can finish the job.”

Last weekend’s results seemed to confirm the likely outcome of last night’s match. Aberdeen fought out a 4-4 draw with title-chasing Celtic, while Raith slumped to an embarrassing 4-0 defeat at home to Inverness Caley. By normal logic, this would mean that Caley are a far better team than Celtic. It’s a funny old game.

To add even more complexity to the fixture, on Monday Raith captain Mark Campbell, who for the past four years has been a constant source of dependability in defence and was inspirational in the first game, was badly injured in a car crash. While it looks like he will make a full recovery, this news must have sent shockwaves through the Rovers camp. The players could have reacted in two ways: resign themselves to defeat, or commit themselves to fighting for every tackle and header and ultimately, the win.

Even on the night it looked like the fates were conspiring against Raith. Defender Dougie Hill was injured in the warm-up and replaced by Robert Sloan, and because of the bizarre rules of the Scottish Cup, this meant manager John McGlynn could only have two substitutes at his disposal. Then in only the 24th minute, striker Johnny Russell had to go off after coming off worse in a 50-50 tackle.

But all it took was one tap-in from French forward Gregory Tade, a half hour of dogged defending, and Rovers now find themselves in the quarter finals of the Scottish Cup.

Much of the media attention today has focused on McGhee’s plight (and if he hadn’t been so smug beforehand I might actually feel some sympathy for him after being spat at by Dons fans), but nothing should detract from this remarkable win.

Now all Raith need is the same kind of incentive to go and beat Dundee in the next round.