Sexy football is all well and good... but don't dare claim steely St Mirren aren't worthy of admiration

Beauty is, indeed, in the eye of the beholder. 

Much was made before this encounter about the contrast in styles between Stephen Robinson’s robust, direct, super-organised St Mirren and the more risky, passing-centric philosophy expounded by Motherwell manager Jens Berthel Askou.

You could maybe even argue it reflected wider discussions within football right now. You know, how so many people are becoming offended by Premier League leaders Arsenal, for example, so often written off as wimps and softies, suddenly using set-pieces as a central weapon in their armoury and becoming hugely difficult to create against.

How goals from dead-ball situations, for that matter, are becoming more prevalent in all of the game’s most prominent leagues.

Part of the problem is that so many people have been brainwashed into forming a particular idea of what beauty in football — such a silly trade at times, driven by fads and diktat and those who follow it all like sheep — really is.

A view was allowed to develop over years which dictated that there is a particular way in which coaches must endeavour to send out their sides. A right way. A way developed around passing from the back, playing through the lines, never being scared to take the ball in tight areas, putting possession first.

And that’s fine, by the way. Motherwell chairman Kyrk Macmillan made a good case ahead of his side’s 4-1 tonking at the hands of the Buddies for going with a head coach in Askou with a set philosophy.

The board wanted an attractive brand of football that would get people out of their armchairs and want to go along to Fir Park — and the turnout at the national stadium on Saturday suggested strongly that the strategy is bearing fruit.

There’s more than one way to skin a cat, though. And don’t dare argue that St Mirren’s way of going about things on Saturday wasn’t good to watch. Wasn’t worthy of deep admiration. Wasn’t worthy of being lauded.

Robinson, who really ought to start getting more respect now that he has taken the Paisley outfit to a cup final on the back of three straight top-six finishes in the league, said as much himself in his post-match analysis.

‘I think we play an exciting brand of football, create a lot of chances,’ he ventured. ‘We deliver a lot of balls, we make teams defend.

‘We steal a lot of ideas off Bournemouth and Brentford to increase your xG. We put long throws into the box. We put free-kicks into the box. Outwith that, we move the ball really well at times as well.’

And he’s right. There was so much to enthuse about in St Mirren’s performance in seeing off Motherwell, so much to take pleasure in, so much to praise and admire.

Watching a team execute a game plan pretty much to the letter is a special thing. It takes discipline and patience and control and so many qualities we would feel no reticence over celebrating in other fields.

As Robinson described, Motherwell want you to press them high up the pitch, move the ball around you and leave you exposed in one-v-one situations. That was never going to happen at Hampden. Saints allowed them to have the ball in certain areas, as the possession stats pointed out, and were happy to pounce on mistakes and play on the counter.

It worked a treat. And that element of treating football like something of a chess match should forever be a source of fascination, interest and intrigue.

Mikael Mandron and Dan Nlundulu, two big hulks up front, gave Motherwell’s rearguard a torrid time. Mandron, up against his old club, was terrific, with two goals and one assist. A man for whom everything fell just perfectly on the day and an absolute joy to watch.

What’s more, both Mandron and Nlundulu showed beyond question they are anything but a pair of battering rams. Mandron’s 24th-minute opener, controlling a difficult ball with one touch and lashing it home on the volley, was great technique.

Nlundulu spinning on a sixpence and lashing home a thunderous drive from the edge of the area to make it 2-0 just before the break was great technique.

After substitute Callum Hendry had scored for ‘Well ahead of Richard King making it 3-1 for the eventual victors, Mandron’s second — and Saints’ fourth — was just another brilliant bit of play, taking the ball after Emmanuel Longelo had failed to clear and bending a delicate, delicious little curler into the far corner.

The Frenchman was the man of the match, really, but the sponsors’ award went to Alex Gogic and you certainly wouldn’t grudge him that.

Gogic is hardly the next Franz Beckenbauer. He’s a wrecker, really. A destroyer. And he’s built a blooming good career out of it in Scotland.

The Cypriot international operated in his younger days as a defensive midfielder and was a colossus at the back for Robinson’s men on Saturday. More teams should have a Gogic-type figure. A leader by example.

When we talk about beauty in football, it presents itself in so many ways if you are prepared to look.

Gogic has wrung a heck of a lot out of the ability he has. That’s admirable in itself. But there’s so much to take from watching a bloke like that go up against more technically-proficient opponents and work out ways to stop them, stifle them, give his own team the upper hand. It’s a vital, supremely valuable part of the whole, great symphony.

Motherwell did have chances here, but couldn’t take them. They are entitled to feel aggrieved about the lead-up to the opener, where Gogic illegally took a free-kick when the ball was still moving. However, they got outsmarted, outplayed and outmuscled in the end.

It was a triumph for Robinson and his players. And a triumph for those who believe football should be played any way you like. Any way that suits the talent you have at your disposal and that you feel might negate the geezers on the other side of the pitch.

There’s no right and no wrong. No black and no white. Plenty space for the warmongers, the technicians and everyone in between. That’s a thing of beauty in itself.