Hasn't it been a long famine? We Norn Iron fans have endured six successive defeats. We have cheered only four goals and groaned as our keeper was beaten fourteen times. A consolation is that apart from Norway no one took us apart. But famines leave you drained and despairing. It was vital that a new dawn should break soon. At last the tide turned - and in Denmark too! As Jackie Fullerton would say, "Can you believe it?" (When you come to think of it that is about all he ever says) Copenhagen, so often in the past the graveyard of our hopes, is once again the "wonderful, wonderful" city of the Danny Kaye song.

The Danes were determined to brush Sammy's lads aside by a display of sheer class. I was especially taken with the Danish number two, A.C. Milan's Helveg. He is stocky in build and in the street might be dismissed as a 'wee fat man' but his energy and athleticism was boundless. His overlapping runs on the right flank caused us problems and his long throw-in, which was miscued off the head of Murdock left Rommedahl with a free header into an unguarded net. Seventeen minutes from the end Helveg was just a yard too far away from Mulryne when young Philip headed home Keith Gillespie's cross for the equaliser. Hard cheese, Helveg!

This game made us ask the question, "Is Colin Murdock the new Iain Dowie? Is he the player whose awkwardness puts opponents off and makes us warm to him despite his not being exactly Ulster's answer to Pele? Just think what Murdock got up to in Copenhagen! He almost scored an own goal in the first half when his header hit the post. He put himself out of the Iceland game by grabbing an opponent's shorts and getting a second yellow card. (This happened because he tried to play fancy-dan football and got caught in possession.) He also put Sunderland goalkeeper Thomas Sorensen out for a fortnight when a flailing elbow broke the keeper's nose. Yes, the new Dowie has emerged.

I hated the navy shorts we wore in Copenhagen. Still, they brought us luck, enabling us to finish our World Cup campaign unbeaten by the best team of the group. Jackie, can you believe it?

Many of us feared the worst as we lined up against Iceland, a land famed for its pursuit of that outlawed delicacy, whale steak. In our World Cup group the whalers had achieved thirteen points to our five. They arrived in Belfast after crushing the mighty Czechs, that Moby-dick of a team, by the awesome margin of 3-1. I was not very hopeful.

The first half was a nondescript affair, with the visitors failing to control the midfield and our lads still not quite on song. The scene was set for Sammy's half-time talk to bring out something special from the home team. And so it turned out.

But Keith Gillespie, that Bangor fish supper of a player, (sometimes great, sometimes indigestible) decided that Norn Iron had been served up on a platter too often. He continued to go through the visitors' defence like a harpoon through a whale. Every time he got the ball, they could see themselves on a fishmonger's slab. Soon our superiority led to a goal feast.

Gillespie's lightning thrusts reduced the Icelandic defence to the plight of a ship in a whirlpool. He had a hand in all three of our goals, although the first by Healy came from a misdirected defensive header. My mate George has been at college "on the mainland" for some time. Before the Iceland game he had never seen a Healy goal. I have bored him to tears with my description of the one that he slotted through the Yugoslav keeper's legs and the one that left Schmeichel grasping handfuls of air. Now he has one of his own to savour. Didn't young David position himself perfectly? And didn't' he drill his shot into the bottom corner with unstoppable power? My mate George raved about that goal all the way home.

Then Michael Hughes netted a low Gillespie cross and debutante, George McCartney netted a high one. It was nice to see the new boy score. Surely this is the first course of a feast for the Sunderland defender. In fact this should be the first course of a banquet for Sammy's lads. They have learned the hard way how tough things can be among the big boys of world football. Now the scene is set for this young team to enjoy a more successful campaign in the European championship.

On Tuesday 12th February some of the readers of this excellent fanzine were arriving in Cyprus for the friendly with Poland. They were rubbing their hands with glee at the prospect of seeing the return of Steve Lomas to the team after a year and a half of injury and of seeing Mike Duff make history by becoming the first player from Cheltenham Town ever to win an international cap. Mainly they were delighted to have left behind the lousy weather that drowns and freezes our native Ulster at that time of year.

My mate Ernie and I did not manage to get to an island in the sun on 12th February. The only islands in the vicinity of a near empty Windsor Park that evening of rain and cold were Greenisland, Queen's Island and Island Magee.

However Roy Millar's lads did promise something exotic against the mighty Germans. They ignored the icy cold, the lasting rain and the reputation of their opponents and got stuck in. They made things hot for the visitors. If it had not been for the heroics of German goalkeeper Tom Starke we would have been three up at the interval. In the first forty-five minutes the Krauts did not have a single shot on target.

There was something exotic about this young Norn Iron line-up. We had Tony Capaldi of Birmingham in defence. Now there is a name that suggests Italian tenacity. We had a touch of Brazil up front in the shape of Morecambe's Zico Black. I kid you not. We have a Zico. His presence recalled the 1986 World Cup and the excitement of the Brazilian fans when the great Zico was brought on as a substitute in Pat Jennings' last game for us. Our Zico is no slouch, on one occasion rounding the centre-half and firing in a shot that Starke did well to save.

In the second half the Germans took control and forced a series of corners. From one of them Benjamin Auer (Remember that name!) eluded his marker and headed the only goal of the game. Roy Millar's lads never gave up and Starke did well to hold on to a header by Ayr United's Aidan McVeigh near the end.

What I want to know is where were all the fans? They can't all have been in Limassol. If more of us had been there to huddle together against the cold and keep warm by repeatedly standing up for the Ulstermen, we might have drawn with the mighty Germans or even stolen a win. So come on, fans; get behind the team whether senior or junior. The return of the glory days may be nearer than you think.

I tuned in to the BBC documentary programme on David Healy with apprehension. The title sugested that the lad was going to be burdened by the label of 'The Next George Best' an impossible load for his young shoulders. However, I ended up applauding the programme. Indeed, I believe that videos of this offering will be eagerly sought by all fans of the lads in green. Jackie Fullerton and he Beeb deserve quite a few bouquets for a rare offering that caused us fans to leap out of our armchairs, punching the air and saying, 'Yes!'

The programme consulted the experts, all of whom know talent when they see it. There was Sammy McIlroy, George Best, Paddy Crerand, Norman Whiteside and Alex Ferguson. They all praised our David as something special. We saw picturesque views of Killyleagh, David's home town, while the soundtrack had us Windsor Park fans chanting, 'Healy! Healy!' We met David's parents, who are really nice people. His dad turned out to be one of us, a regular attender of international matches. Good for you, Mr. Healy Senior! We met David's former headmaster at Down Academy. It was nice to see that David is already in that school's sporting hall of fame. What a good example to toffee-nosed institutions like Bangor Grammar who refuse to highlight any achievement in the people's game, preferring rugby, that ugly melee played by snobs.

The programme celebrated other lads from Northern Ireland who had sprung to fame at Old Trafford. We saw George Best scoring one wonder goal after another. We saw Sammy McIlroy scoring in his debut and being hugged by Bestie himself. We saw Norman Whiteside's powerful left foot scoring the winner in the 1985 F.A. Cup Final and other goals by Big Norm, Malcolm Brodie, who has been reporting Northern Ireland internationals since St. Patrick played on the left wing, declared that Healy is our 'most positive striker in the last three to four decades.' You can't improve on that.

There was a musical sequence of the Yugoslavia match with Healy's goal through the keeper's legs replayed. Sammy McIlroy predicted that David is 'going to be a Northern Ireland hero for years to come.' Then Keith Gillespie, the last Northern Ireland player to merit such a tv documentary, was interviewed. We saw Keith's debut premiership goal when his awesome pace left the Newcastle defence standing like tailors' dummies. Paddy Crerand introduced a note of sadness here, saying of our Keith, 'He looked a great talent when he first started off.' Then Crerand added with disappointment, 'Shame.' He meant that it was a shame that our Keith has not fulfilled his potential. After his wonderful performance in the recent Iceland game, we Norn Iron fans hope that Gillespie can yet regain the form, which put him alongside Beckham and Scholes at the very top. Another musical sequence gave us the home game with Denmark and Peter Schmeichel grabbing handfuls of air, as Healy's strike whistled past him. Afterwards Schmeichel was generous with praise for young David.

However, as the programme progressed, David became more and more impatient with Alex Ferguson for not giving him a chance to shine in the first team. It soon became clear that Manchester United was breaking his heart. The star of the international stage hated being 'a bit part player' at Old Trafford. Desperate to play first team football every week he moved to Preston. We saw his headed goal on his debut and heard glowing reports from his new manager. On a night when they got everything right the Beeb even managed to show David's superbly volleyed goal against Iceland as the climax to a real forty-minute tv treat for us Norn Iron supporters.

Early in the programme Sammy McIlroy described Healy as a 'level-headed boy'. Now who am I to question the great Sammy? But wasn't Healy arrested after some argy-bargy in a Prague night-club last June? Didn't he spend a night I a Czech jail after some 'high spirits'? the nice lad from Killyleagh is no saint. Our great hope has flaws and we would be foolish to paint him whiter than white. I am pinning my hopes on a really pleasant wee Ulster girl with blonde hair who appeared on the programme with the caption, 'David's girlfriend.' Let's hope that Emma Heron can make our lively lad settle down and concentrate on high spririts on rather than off the field.