Motherwell show resilience in final test before Rangers clash
You’d be forgiven for skipping a friendly. They’re often low-stakes, slow-paced affairs—a time to rotate, to experiment, to tick off another 90 minutes and keep the engine warm. But Friday night under the Fir Park sun wasn’t that. Not even close. From the moment Jens Askou named an unchanged starting eleven—the first time he’s done so since taking charge—it was clear this wasn’t just a match to stretch legs. This was a final rehearsal.
The opposition played its part, of course. Hertha Berlin may be in Germany’s second tier, but they remain a heavyweight name: deep squad, experienced internationals, and a level of tactical sharpness you don’t usually find in July. That gravitas added weight to the evening, but it wasn’t just the badge across the halfway line that made it matter. It was how Motherwell approached the game. There was structure. There was tempo. There was, crucially, intent.
“It was a really big crowd for what was technically a test game, and that shows everyone wants to be part of it… We wanted to give ourselves a good starting point before the season kicks off.”
Jens Berthel askou’s reaction to hertha bsc draw
Askou’s decision to stick with the same XI who had convincingly handled Morton a few days earlier offered a glimpse into his current thinking. Continuity suggests clarity. After weeks of rotation, combinations, and injury management, this felt like a coach beginning to settle—not only on personnel, but on principles. It doesn’t mean the line-up is set in stone. But it does suggest a system is emerging. A shape. An identity. And you could see it play out across the pitch: the early intensity, the controlled build from the back, the pressing triggers, the moments when the midfield pivot dropped in to receive and dictate. Even when the penalty was conceded—a consequence of an underhit Gordon pass and a tired clearance from Ward—the collective didn’t unravel. They kept their shape. They kept asking questions, though it took until the second half for these questions to really begin probing.
In many ways, this match told us more than any other pre-season fixture has. Because it looked, felt, and unfolded like a game that meant something—not in the points column, but in the mind. This was less about fitness and more about fluency. Less about trying combinations and more about trusting them.
With Rangers coming to town next week, this was Motherwell saying: this is who we are now.
The match itself unfolded in distinct phases. Early chaos gave way to control, and by the final whistle, Motherwell had moved through the gears in a way that hinted at something deeper than mere pre-season conditioning. This wasn’t a tale of two halves for the sake of cliché—it was the result of deliberate adjustments, resilience, and increasing cohesion.
It started, though, with an all-too-familiar problem: a defensive lapse. Liam Gordon’s undercooked pass back to Calum Ward forced the keeper into damage control. His attempted clearance clattered into Jon Thorsteinsson, earning Hertha a stonewall penalty that Fabian Reese slotted home with a calmness that matched the quiet early tempo. Nine minutes in, and the Steelmen were behind.
But here’s the thing—nothing about Motherwell’s response felt panicked. Instead of collapsing into long balls or retreating into themselves, they stuck with the plan. Build-up remained composed. Midfielders rotated and offered passing angles. The back four, Gordon included, kept showing for the ball. It was a side trying to play football on their own terms—even when behind.
Still, it wasn’t perfect. Hertha’s press began to bite as the first half wore on. Their transitions—fast, sharp, and well-drilled—forced Motherwell into mistakes, particularly when attacking moves broke down. Ward had to be sharp, tipping a Zeefuik header wide just before half-time and dealing with a couple of speculative efforts. There was a sense, at times, that the visitors could cut through if given space.
And yet, Motherwell never let the game drift. Even when under pressure, they didn’t lose their identity. The second half brought changes—both tactical and in personnel. Oxborough replaced Ward on the hour, and within minutes, Apostolos Stamatelopoulos was nearly through on goal, only stopped by a perfectly-timed sliding tackle from Toni Leistner. It was the kind of moment that can shift energy, and it did.
Suddenly, Motherwell’s wide players found joy. Maswanhise began driving at tired legs. Longelo overlapped with urgency. Andy Halliday and Ibrahim Said brought bite and creativity in the final third. Then came the best move of the game: Slattery carried the ball purposefully on the right, glancing up before fizzing a dangerous low ball into the box. Stamatelopoulos, fresh from scoring against Morton, was there again—muscling into the six-yard area and forcing the ball beyond Tjark Ernst. The equaliser wasn’t just deserved; it felt inevitable.
What followed was anything but pre-season formality. Hertha pushed. Motherwell countered. Thorsteinsson nearly reclaimed the lead for the Germans with a rasping drive that tested Oxborough. But the Fir Park side kept pressing too. Snapping into tackles, pushing the tempo, even when the tanks were clearly near empty.
The final whistle ended a match that had long since stopped feeling like a friendly. It felt like two sides trying to win—and for Motherwell, that pursuit told us something. They weren’t out there to avoid defeat. They were out there to test themselves, go toe-to-toe, and earn the kind of belief that can’t be simulated in training. Mistakes were made. But more importantly—something stronger was built.
If the match told us something about Motherwell’s football, the post-match interview told us something about their manager.
There was no hyperbole. No sweeping statements. Jens Askou didn’t claim they were ready to go toe-to-toe with Rangers or that the team was the finished article. Instead, what we got was something more telling: measured belief.
“I think we started with extremely high intensity,” Askou noted,
“but then we struggled to keep that intensity across the first 45…
We made a few too many technical mistakes, rushed some of our attacks, and had to spend a lot of energy repairing transitions.”
It’s this kind of self-awareness that separates noise from substance. Askou didn’t shy away from the flaws. He called them what they were: rushed moments, fatigue, technical sloppines, but framed them as part of a broader process. The honesty wasn’t defeatist; it was developmental. And it echoes what he told us in his letter to the Motherwell faithful: we will make mistakes.
There was also a thread of tactical maturity running through his words. Motherwell aren’t just playing high-intensity football for its own sake. The idea is to control games—not just emotionally, but structurally. When the energy dipped in the first half, they struggled. When they regrouped and adjusted, they grew back into the game. That arc wasn’t accidental. It was coached.
“We were actually able to take control of the game again and push for an equaliser,” he said, before adding that “with a little bit of luck, maybe we could’ve nicked it—but we could’ve conceded too.”
That kind of realism—acknowledging both threat and opportunity—points to a manager trying to build something sustainable, not just reactive.
But perhaps the most revealing comment came when Askou addressed the unchanged XI and the size of the crowd:
“It was a really big crowd for what was technically a test game, and that shows everyone wants to be part of it… We wanted to give ourselves a good starting point before the season kicks off.”
That crowd—larger than many would have expected—wasn’t just there to pass time. They were there to buy in. And Askou sees that. There’s a growing bond being formed between the squad, the staff, and the support—and the football is beginning to reflect that unity.
“We could always use more time,” he admitted, “because I don’t think we’ve trained as hard or as much as we’ve wanted… But there’s positive momentum, a good atmosphere in the squad. They’re committed to what we’re doing, and they’re growing every day".
The phrase might seem throwaway, but it matters: They’re growing every day. That’s the project. That’s what Askou is building. Not just a team that runs harder or presses faster—but one that improves with clarity, commitment, and cohesion. And if Friday night is anything to go by, that work is beginning to show.
Now comes the real thing.
